


Goodnight

by levis_taller_than_me



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Eventual Sex, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Medical Conditions, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reincarnation, Toddler Levi, nsfw at times, trigger warnings in later chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 07:11:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 44,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1973625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levis_taller_than_me/pseuds/levis_taller_than_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been over a thousand years and countless lifetimes, but Jean and Marco are back together - but will Jean's medical condition cut their relationship short, or will the teens be able to finally live a long and happy life together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Encounters and First Promises

**Author's Note:**

> I do not give permission for this work to be uploaded, shared, or copied without my consent.

_This is the story of how two boys died._

_But there's more to the story, I promise. This story also involves two boys living, and all the things living entails: friendship, love, cute toddlers, heartache, bad dreams, a nosebleed here and there, freckles, laughs, tears, six German children and a lot of patience. Before I even begin, I'd like to tell you the moral of this story is to never give up on love or hope. If this story teaches you anything, I want you to realize love and hope are quite easy to find...even if it takes 1164 some years and several lifetimes._

_I suppose I should start from the beginning._

  
~~~

  
Once upon a time, not so long ago, in a rather modern high school, slept an eighteen year old with two toned hair. Although he slept almost every day in his third period Algebra class, his teacher let it slide because he somehow maintained a 96 average. He liked math but liked sleep more and for some reason the dreams that gave him chills seemed to stay at bay when he slumped over in his desk. On this afternoon, the class was abuzz due to a new student. The sleepy student - Jean - didn't bother lifting his head from his arms. They were seniors after all, not fourth graders. They'd be graduating in three months so it's not like they'd ever see each other again. However, when Jean heard the desk next to him shift and the the telltale sound of a backpack being set down, Jean figured he should at least get a peek at the new kid. Jean's heart tottered, as did his vision. He would definitely be seeing this boy again, because the boy next to him was the guy of his dreams.

  
Literally. Jean's eyes unfocused and a pain itched in his head, but none of this was unusual. Jean stared at him as his vision blurred and was replaced by smoke. Or was it dust? At any rate, his eyes flicked to the right - and saw a dead body. Seeing a dead body wasn't surprising, it was who it was that made him sick. Marco - his Marco, the sweet Marco, the leader, a future member of the Military Police - his lips. Jean's body visibly shook. Marco's lips were gone - hell, half of him was gone - but his lips, Marco's lips, the lips that traced the curve of his neck in his dreams, the lips Jean never got the chance -

  
His vision blurred again, replaced by gentle brown eyes - and a shit ton of freckles. It took Jean a moment to realize he was being gently being shaken on the shoulder. The entire class was silent, but not shocked. Half the kids in class had known Jean since elementary school and were aware of his medical condition. Jean was normally embarrassed of his seizures, but not today. Today, Marco - was that still his name? - was touching him. Touching. Him. Through a jacket and shirt, but touching him nonetheless. He was less than a foot away, but his eyes looked so sad. Suddenly, his math teacher was leaning over him, pressing a tissue to his nose. Damn. The first time Marco had seen him, he had a bloody nose. He hoped he would get the chance to tell Marco nosebleeds were normal for him.

  
"Jean," his teacher said, calmly. "Someone's going to take you to the nurse." Not surprisingly, the class was silent. Volunteering to take someone to the nurse to cut class was one thing, but taking someone who had a serious medical condition was another. However, the new freckled student leaned over to whisper something in the teacher's ear. "Okay, Marco's taking you, alright?"

  
Jean's head was dizzy but he stood anyway. Marco was his name. Marco walked over to Jean and stood next to him. He pulled one of Jean's arms over his shoulder - he was still taller than Jean - and Marco held his wrist, keeping his arm in place. Marco's other hand gripped his opposite hip. Jean's knees went weak, but not because of his seizure. The math teacher gave Marco directions to the nurses office while Jean wondered, how long have I waited? How many lifetimes?

  
"You ready?" Marco was addressing him. Jean opened his mouth, ready to capture Marco's heart.

  
"Uhmmmfv," Jean said, followed by drool dripping down his chin. Jean was such a stud. Marco smiled, but in a good way, his beautiful, kind smile. They clumsily walked out of the classroom and down the hall to the elevator. Marco pressed the button, shifting Jean closer to him.

  
"Um, do you have you meter with you?" Marco asked, true concern edging in his voice. Jean shook his head as the elevator doors opened and they stepped inside. Marco leaned Jean against the elevator wall and reached his hand into Jean's jacket pocket. "Sorry," he said. "Teacher said you keep it here." Indeed, Jean did. In the moments it took for the elevator to go from the second floor to the first, Marco had pricked Jean's finger and tapped Jean's assaulted fingertip to a clean test strip. As the doors opened Marco was informed of Jean's blood sugar level: 47 mg.

Suddenly, Jean's body was shifted and he was in Marco's arms, bridal style. Jean leaned his head against Marco's chest, still strong after all these years - all these lifetimes. His thoughts began to swirl. Did Marco know? Remember? He began to tremble, out of fear, low blood sugar, or being jostled about - was Marco running? - Jean didn't know.

"Stay with me, Jean," Marco said, almost absentmindedly. Jean. Not jean, like the clothing. Not John. _Jzhon_. The way he said it, the way it slid so graciously off his tongue and out of his beautiful lips, Jean knew Marco remembered him.

  
"Fe'vor," Jean mumbled, hoping Marco comprehended what he said. _Forever._

  
~~~

  
Jean laid his head back on the twin size bed the nurse had in the back of her office. Marco sat in a wooden chair, leaning his elbows against his knees. Jean had eaten several saltine crackers and drank two glasses of orange juice, but the nurse made him rest until someone came to pick him up. Although his blood sugar had stabilized, Jean allowed Marco to check his glucose and gently touch his injured finger.

  
"It's okay," Jean whispered. "I lost feeling in my fingertips a long time ago." Jean tried to smile, not because it was funny, but because Marco's beautiful eyes pooled with sadness at the thought that Jean couldn't feel his touch. How long had Marco waited? He waited through lifetimes, almost nineteen years of this one, and fifty-seven years of purgatory. Jean had been in Marco's last life - the one before purgatory - but it had not been a romantic affair and Marco hoped with every fiber of his being Jean didn't remember that short, painful life.

  
The nurse stayed in the room, so Jean and Marco couldn't speak. However, few words were needed as they stared into each other's eyes, wondering at how much had stayed the same and marveled at how much had changed. Marco's face, neck, arms - and Jean could only imagine where else - were covered in freckles. His hair was parted the same way as Jean remembered, but his bangs were longer, past his forehead and temples. Jean wanted to brush them out of his eyes, which were darker than Jean remembered. They were a lovely mocha color. Although he obviously wasn't as strong as their training days, he was still lean and broad shouldered. He had no facial hair and his jawline was strong.

Jean's hair was still two toned but his cut was straight. He was hairier than he liked; he trimmed his chest hair and shaved at least twice a week. He was about the same height as his first life but was at least fifteen pounds heavier, and not from muscle. Although Jean wasn't overweight, his hypoglycemia made it difficult to work out and tone his stomach, giving him a noticeable belly pudge. His eyes were no longer golden, but hazel; green near his pupil and rippling into a grey-blue. Many girls had told him they were his best feature and while Jean blushed easily at compliments, he didn't care much for girls' opinions - or girls in general.

  
When the nurse received a call saying Jean's mother had arrived, Marco helped Jean up but kept his arm around Jean's shoulders after he did so. "Don't want you falling," Marco said with a smile. "Maybe you should put your arm around my waist." Jean smirked and complied - as the bell dismissing third block rang. They had just exited the nurses offices and were now being jostled about by other students. Many students blatantly stared at the two boys holding each other, but why would they be embarrassed? While neither remembered much, they remembered each other and for now that was enough. They walked to the office and Jean said he saw his mom's car outside. They slowly parted, but Marco took Jean's hand and pulled a pen out of his pocket. He gently opened Jean's palm and wrote his number, adding a heart below the digits. Marco brought Jean's palm to his lips, giving it a quick peck. "Get some rest," Marco said, turning away from Jean with great difficulty.

  
Two girls had witnessed this scene just a few feet away, and both heart's swooned when Marco gave them a smile. The short, bespectacled girl looked nice, but the redhead caught Marco's eye. Marco had a weakness for redheads; the only lifetime he remembered being married he was married to a redhead similar to the one in front of him. She was just the right height and her pretty tank top made her blue eyes very noticeable. However Marco didn't quite swing that way, so he gave the girls a polite smile and was on his way, not hearing the girls brief conversation.

  
"Did you see that?" the redhead asked. The short girl was having a mental nosebleed.

  
"Do you ship it?" she whispered, wondering how she was going to hide her female erection from her boyfriend.

  
"So fucking hard," the pretty redhead replied.


	2. Mothers, Flashbacks, Babysitters, and the Freckled Flirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Backtracking several years, Jean has his first seizure and meets an old friend who tries to explain what's going on. In the present, Jean then faces a serious problem - how, exactly, does one flirt?

Similar to Jean's first life, his mother was a little smothering, but for good reason. Jean started having nightmares when he was around seven, the same time his first blood test came back "unusual", resulting in more blood being drawn from the poor child. By "unusual", it could be anything from a simple lad mistake to leukemia, which obviously sent his mother into near panic. However, it was discovered Jean had hypoglycemia - still a terrible medical condition, but far better than what Jean's mother had pictured. He began having nightmares but his mother didn't find this unusual, especially since Jean couldn't remember much when he woke up. Two weeks after the test results, Jean had his first flash back.

His mother had been playfully chasing him around the house and were calling each other nicknames.

"Momma Bear!" He screamed, dashing past the couch.

"Cuddle Cake!" She retorted, chasing him into the kitchen.

"Momma Bomma!"

"Jean Bo!"

And suddenly, Jean wasn't at home anymore. He was flying, flying through the air with two sword things. Then, he wasn't flying anymore, he was by a big fire, crying. Suddenly the fire was gone and he was in the back of a wagon, a wagon like he had seen in cowboy movies, and a lady was in front of him. She was pointing something in his face -

A light. A man was holding a flashlight above him, hurting his eyes. Why was his mommy crying? What was up his nose and in his hand? Where was he?

He was in an ambulance, and an IV was in his hand, stabilizing his glucose. A tissue was up his nose, soaking up blood. He was scared, but his mommy was rubbing his hair and kissing his face so he'd knew he'd be okay.

After many hours at the hospital, it was concluded that Jean's sugar had dropped very quickly, resulting in a seizure. Not a frothing, trashing sort, but a "lost time" seizure - a seizure where one's mind "freezes", then picks back up as if nothing happened, usually resulting in nosebleeds. It was rare for a person to have seizures because their sugar dropped, but it was possible. Over time, however, Jean began to realize these seizures were not caused by his sugar dropping, but rather vice versa. These seizures also made him have dreams. They were always the same one, but different scenes. The doctors had said they were hallucinations and over time Jean stopped talking to him mom because all it did was make her sad.

About a year later Jean's mother had taken up two jobs, resulting in him needing a babysitter. Due to school, Jean didn't get the chance to meet her until he got home from school. He knew it was a girl named Annie and she had recently graduated high school. When he first saw her, her back was to him. Her dirty blonde hair was in a bun and she wore a white hoodie.

"Jean," she said. Not jean, like the clothing that people often mistook his name for. Not John. She pronounced his name in a way he had only heard his mother say it. She said it as if she knew it by heart and it made his belly turn. "Your mommy tells me you have dreams and nosebleeds."

"Y-yeah..." He slowly removed his backpack, scared - and angry. Why was he angry?

"In these dreams, you're flying with swords. I bet you're in a brown jacket, too."

Jean's stomach lurched. That detail seemed so insignificant he never shared it with anyone. Taking the silence for agreement, Annie crossed her arms behind her back and cleared her throat.

"There are monsters, monsters that kind of look like people. But they eat people, don't they?" Her voice was so sad. Jean covered his face, feeling as if he were in trouble. Seeing people - monsters eat people was so terrifying he couldn't put it into words, not even to his mother. Annie shifted. "Jean, I'm going to turn around, and you're going to have a seizure. I'm sorry, but it'll all make sense soon."

True to her word, Jean was soon thrown into a seizure. He saw Annie, but she was shorter and her hair was more blonde. She was a monster. The scenes kept flashing too fast to make sense of most of them, but she killed someone, someone Jean - loved? She was in a clear rock and Jean was banging on it with his sword, telling her to finish what she started. What had she started? Why was he crying?

Annie was over him, pressing a tissue to his nose. She helped him up and fed him crackers and juice. Jean had been crying in his dream and he was crying now. All of his dreams were in first person and he had never seen someone in his dreams in real life. He was scared, but angry as well. Once his glucose was stabilized, Annie promised to answer all of his questions if he answered just a few more of hers. Yes, he always had similar dreams when he had seizures. Yes, his seizures were always caused by words, but only the first time he heard them. No, he had never had a seizure from seeing someone. Yes, he liked grilled cheese.

After Annie made him a grilled cheese sandwich and helped him with his math homework, she began to answer his questions. When people died, their souls went to different bodies, and sometimes memories stayed present even in a different life. Usually these memories were experienced through dreams or flashbacks. She believed Jean wasn't having seizures, but flashbacks. However, she wasn't sure why they were so intense that they resulted in nosebleeds. The flashbacks he was having were from the first life and yes, she had been one of the monsters, but she was forced to do what she did.

"What did you do?" Jean asked, intrigued. For the first time during their conversation, Annie did not meet his eye.

"A lot of bad things. I didn't want too, but uh, I still did them. One of the things was k-killing people. Specifically one of your friends. His name was Marco."

For the second time that day, Jean had a flashback. Marco, Marco, Marco. Always smiling, laughing, and telling him he was a leader. His freckles, his eyes, Jean thought he was...cute. Jean couldn't wait to join the Military Police with him.

Since he had recently eaten, his sugar didn't drop very low. Once his nose had stopped bleeding, Annie told him she didn't want to kill him but had too. However, she said karma had always found her. Before Jean could ask what karma was, his mother came home, ending the conversation. He didn't tell his mom the conversation he and Annie had and he didn't ask what karma was. The next day, however, he found out. He came home from school and his mother told him Annie would not be babysitting him anymore - she had been murdered by a burglar the night before.

~~~

Jean's mother all but carried him up to his room where she kissed his forehead and rushed to make him something to eat. He never told his mother what Annie said but always hid his flashbacks as best as he could. His mother had aged quickly before his eyes, never remarrying even though his father had died when he was four. She often worked two jobs to keep a well stocked cupboard and small college fund for Jean. Due to these expenses, they moved into a small, two bedroom and one bath apartment when Jean was in the fourth grade. Jean never had friends over, but his mother made sure he had everything other teenagers had, even if he didn't ask for them: he had his own laptop, a PS3, and an Iphone.

Once his mother had gone downstairs, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and added Marco as a contact. Should he text Marco now? There was still an hour left of school; Jean didn't want him getting in trouble his first day. He decided to wait and shortly after his mother rushed upstairs with a tray containing a bacon sandwich, chips, Ritz crackers and a diet Mountain Dew. He sat up and reached for the tray, but his mother pulled it back - to get a good look at his palm. Jean blushed before his mother started gushing.

"Oh my _gosh_ , Jean! Is that a _heart_? Who's the lucky guy? Are you two _dating_?" She quickly sat next to him, finally giving him the tray.

"Marco," Jean said, trying not to smile (and failing). "He's new. I think he likes me, too."

"Is he cute?"

" _Mom_." His mother laughed and squeezed his knee, getting up to leave. Ever since he first remembered Marco, he began to look at boys differently. He never officially came out to anyone at school, but he never dated anyone. His mother, however, was a different story.

When Jean was fifteen he planned on getting his permit and his mom let him drive her to the grocery store. He was a careful driver, but wasn't good at parking. Again and again his mom made him pull in and out of the parking space, Jean getting more and more frustrated each time.

"Jean dear, it's still not straight," his mother said gently.

"Well it's straighter than I am!" Jean snapped, literally slapping his hand over his mouth. They stared at each other, both blushing.

"Oh - well - that's a very positive outlook. Let's get dinner," his mother said quickly. Despite the unexpected confession, his mother accepted his sexuality, which was something he could never thank her enough for.

The minutes dragged on and Jean finished his lunch and was left with his thoughts. Did Marco remember liking him - did Marco even like him before? What if Marco got to know who Jean was now and didn't like him? Jean smashed his face in his pillow, inhaling deeply. He washed and dried his sheets in lavender scent, his favorite scent and color. Finally, it was 3:15. He quickly typed three words:

hey its jean

He set his phone down and waited. One minute. Two. Jean nervously began tapping his foot. What if he had been too overeager? What if - his phone vibrated and he snatched it before it had finished buzzing.

Hey! :) How're you feeling?

Jean smiled; of course Marco was the type of person to use proper grammar while texting.

lot better thanks

_Shit._ How was Marco supposed to respond? If he just said "you're welcome", how was Jean supposed to carry on the conversation?

Not a problem, handsome. ;)

Blush crept into Jean's cheeks. _Oh_. His palms began to sweat while Marco sat on the bus, nervously chewing his lip. Was it too soon to flirt?

yeah talking to your cute self makes me feel better ;)

Aw stop! You're making me blush!

Jean got a beautiful image in his mind of Marco blushing and promised himself to make him blush every day. They continued to flirt for the next hour or so until Jean embarrassed himself.

I really love your freckles im glad you got more

_Shit._ The past hour neither had brought up their past lives, although it was clear they remembered at least each other.

Thanks.

Fuck im so sorry i promise it wont happen again

Hey it's okay! It's just that I'd rather not discuss it over text. How about face to face...tomorrow?

Sounds good :) your place?

Sure. ^.^

Shit my mom has to work can you pick me up?:(

Yeah :)

Sorry :( cant get my liscence cause of seizures

I understand, cutie! I'm sorry, but I have to go to start dinner and homework...but have you ever ridden a motorcycle???

no....

Well tomorrow's going to be full of adventures! Until then~

Jean smiled and blushed, his heart all fluttery. He didn't text back, not having the heart to tell Marco goodbye. However, at precisely 10:30, Marco started their first tradition.

Goodnight, Jean.

Goodnight, Marco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Thanks for reading the second chapter! I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to leave your thoughts and opinions below!!!!!!!


	3. Of Makeup and Picture Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little short, but we find out Jean has an awesome mom and both teens are rather photogenic.

Jean had hardly gotten any sleep the night before. Not even the scent of lavender could take the edge off his growing anxiety. How should he do his hair? Should he dress casually? One thing was for certain - he needed to shave.

He rolled out of bed with a total of five hours of sleep. His mother had already left for work, so he stumbled downstairs into the kitchen, clad only in twisted boxers with tiny hippos on them. His hair distorted around his head but he knew better than to try and comb it until it was wet. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and opened the refrigerator, plucking out a carton of orange juice. There was only a tad bit left, but when Jean closed the refrigerator, "orange juice" was already written on the magnetized shopping list.

God, he loved his mom.

After finishing off the drink, the sleepy teen made his way upstairs to the bathroom. His mother must have left in a rush; her make up bag was still on the counter. He bit his lip, pondering. From all the flirting yesterday it seemed that Marco liked him, but would wearing make up throw him off? Jean decided against it, quickly shaving and brushing his teeth before getting in the shower.

Just a month ago, Jean had been having a difficult time dealing with his insecurities and decided to fool around with his mom's make up. He didn't know what half that shit was, much less how to put it on. He ended up making a huge mess on his face and looking worse than he started out. There were no towels in the bathroom and he opened the bathroom door to go to the dryer - and literally ran into his mother, who was home from work early.

"Oh Jean, I'm-"

They both froze, heat rising in Jean's face. His mother grabbed his wrist and all but dragged him into the bathroom. "Sit," his mother told him. "And close your eyes." Jean did as he was told, sitting on the edge of the tub and feeling sick. His mother got a makeup removing towelette and began wiping off Jean's face. "Sweetie, I wouldn't suggest using foundation if your skin is as clear as yours. I'm paler than you, so that's why it looks a little odd. I can buy you some in a darker shade if you want."

"W-what?"

"Yeah, and you want to blend it, not smear it. Your eyes are your best feature, so I wouldn't worry about your lips. Your eyelashes are already long, so I would suggest using volumizing mascara - and, um, a little less. You know, a little eye shadow wouldn't hurt and I bet lavender would go well with your eyes. Wanna try?"

Not trusting his voice, Jean vigorously shook his head. His mother applied his make up, not letting him see her progress until she was finished. Ten minutes later he stood in front of the mirror feeling... _pretty._ His mother told him to keep it on as long as he liked (but did suggest to take it off before bed) and didn't take it off until he showered. Before washing it off, he took a picture of himself - the only picture of himself in recent years smiling.

After his shower Jean walked back to his room naked, still unsure of what to wear. He checked his phone and saw he received a picture message from Marco. He was wearing a blue headset, his hair tousled and chest bare.

Hey! What time did you want to come over?

Jean all but swooned and decided to reply with a picture as well.

Anytimes good

He sent it before realizing how bad he looked. His hair was in dark, wet clumps around his head, his chest was wet and he wasn't smiling, his scowl had just softened. He tossed his phone on his bed, angry at himself.

Marco had been watching Youtube in his underwear, anxiously waiting on a text from Jean. Had the picture been too suggestive? He knew he should have put a shirt on or just sent a message; there was no need - he snatched his phone the moment it vibrated and swooned.

Jean had clearly just gotten out of the shower and didn't dry off well - or at all. Jean looked, well, sexy, but Marco wasn't sure if Jean had meant to give such a smoldering look or not.

Any time was good? Marco jumped up, pulling on the first pair of jeans and shirt he found. He grabbed his helmet and a spare for Jean.

Tell me where you are and I'll be on my way :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Thanks for reading the third chapter and all the kudos!!! Sorry this chapter's kinda short, but I promise the next few wont be! Check out my blog levis-taller-than-me.tumblr.com to leave any comments or even suggestions and ideas for other stories. Thanks for all your support!


	4. First Kisses and An Unexpected Guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean goes to Marco's house for the first time, but Jean's babysitting job calls and interrupts their alone time.

Jean paced his front stoop, anxious. He knew better than to text Marco while he was driving, but seriously, it had been, like, a half hour. He checked his phone.

It had been ten minutes.

He sighed, leaning against the locked door. A motorcycle pulled into the apartment's parking lot, it's rider in a sleek black helmet, the tinted windguard pulled down completely. Jean thought it was a nice bike and continued to inspect it as it slowed down, coming closer to Jean. The bike stopped in front of him and the rider kicked the kickstand, handing Jean a helmet. The rider pushed up his windguard to reveal a cute, smiling, freckled face.

"Hop on, cutie!" Marco said over the engine. Jean slowly made his way over to the motorcycle, taking the helmet gently out of Marco's hand. Marco smiled. "Got your meter?"

"Uh huh," Jean said, sliding on the helmet. How was he supposed to breathe - furthermore, where was he supposed to sit? "Uh...how do I...?" He damn near had to scream through the thick helmet and over the roar of the engine.

"Might have to snuggle me," Marco said. "Unless that's a problem."

"Uh...no..." Jean straddled the motorcycle, wrapping his arms around Marco's waist. Jean's palms were sweaty and his legs felt like jelly and when Marco kicked back the kickstand, the bike tottered and Jean squeezed Marco for dear life.

"You okay?"

"I-uh-I g-get car sick really easy." Jean's mouth was already dry and his tummy felt queezy.

"Put your face between my shoulders," Marco suggested. "I'll drive slow."

Jean did as he suggested and continued to hold Marco tightly as he could. The freckled teen indeed drove slow, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. Jean was holding him. Holding. Him. Literally. He may have only been being held so tight because of Jean feeling sick but Marco was being held nonetheless.

Jean kept his head between Marco's shoulder blades up until the motor was cut off and the bike tottered, indicating the kickstand had been set. Jean loosened his arms and lifted his head, yanking off the helmet for fresh air. His eyes were closed and he inhaled deeply, calming his stomach. Marco got off the bike and removed his helmet as well. He rubbed Jean's back and felt him shudder at the contact. "You ready?" The freckled teen asked, and Jean didn't need to open his eyes to know Marco was smiling. Jean shook his head and opened his eyes. His jaw dropped, unsure of what to say.

The house in front of him was brick, three stories, and had a peaked roof. It was surrounded by beautiful shrubs and the widows had white shudders. The stairs leading to the door were cobblestone and when Jean stepped off the motorcycle, dumbfounded, he realized the driveway was cobblestone as well. Beside the bike sat a jet black 2014 Corvette Stingray.

"My dad's," Marco said apologetically, scratching his elbow - a nervous tick of his. "Mom doesn't like it when he drives them to work in it so..." He laughed nervously. "Uh, wanna go inside?" Jean followed Marco up the driveway and stairs, into the beautiful house. "Uh - this is the main hall," Marco said. A wide stairway greeted them, along with leather chairs and cardboard boxes. "Still unpacking," Marco explained. "And sorry it's a little dark; the chandelier's not working right." Jean looked upward; the main hall had no ceiling. It stretched up to the second floor and a huge chandelier hung from the second floor ceiling. Jean followed Marco, their footsteps echoing.

"To the left is the living room," Marco said. Marco continued walking so Jean only got a glimpse of the largest flat screen he had ever seen. "On the right is the "billiard" room, but really it's just a game room. Parents got sick of me staying in my room at our old house."

The room indeed had a billiard table, as well as a a worn but comfortable looking couch, a few guitars and piano, another flat screen and more game consoles than Jean that ever seen.

"You have a PS4 _and_ Xbox One?" Jean asked, the first words he had spoken since entering the house. Marco blushed and looked at his feet, scratching his elbow.

"Yeah, my mom and dad uh, didn't know which to get me so um...let me show you the kitchen." Marco quickly walked one room over with Jean behind him.

The kitchen was large enough to fit the dining room table and the sleek, black table and chairs matched the kitchen decorations. The tile floor was black and white, along with the kitchen drapes and the curtain that hung over the sliding glass door. As Jean stepped into the kitchen, he could see the oven burner covers were black and white, spotted like cow hide - along with the oven mits, dish towels, and even the salt and pepper shakers.

"My mom likes cows," Marco explained. "You want something to eat?"

Before Jean could answer his stomach growled embarrassingly loud. Twenty minutes later the boys balanced six slices of pizza each, a box of Hot -N- Spicy Cheez-Its, two Hostess Cupcakes and diet sodas up the stairs to Marco's room. They had made light conversation while they waited for the pizza to finish, but once in Marco's room Jean fell silent.

Marco's room was surprisingly clean - and bare. He had a queen size bed in the corner by the door, which is where they sat to eat. Across the room was a desk and computer. Other than a few empty boxes that was all that was in the room. "Sorry, it's kind of boring," Marco apologized, eating half a slice of pizza in one bite.

"It's fine. I just like being with you," Jean mumbled, hoping he didn't sound too forward.

"Yeah - it's just like old times, you know?" It slipped out before Marco could stop himself and he hoped he hadn't made a faux pas. Jean smiled.

"Yeah," he agreed. "It is." It was quite for a while, neither too sure what to say. "So uh, if you don't mind me asking, what do your parents do?"

"Oh - well, my mom is a surgeon and my dad is a doctor. They both work at Baptist, but sometimes they're needed at other hospitals and work crazy hours."

"That's cool - but I mean, like, do you ever get lonely?"

"Mhm. Sometimes."

"Only child?" At Jean's question, Marco stopped smiling.

"Uh...yeah. I am now." There was an uncomfortable silence and Marco rose to grab their now empty dishes and cupcake wrappers. "I'll be right back," he mumbled, leaving the room. Jean fell back on the bed, feeling like an asshole. Would Marco be mad at him now?

Jean sat up quickly when Marco returned, holding a framed photograph. He handed it to Jean, avoiding his eye. In the photograph was Marco standing next to a slightly taller boy in a cap and gown. The boy had freckles, but fewer than Marco. The boy wasn't smiling and the smile on Marco's face seemed strained.

"My brother," Marco explained. "He overdosed two months ago."

Again, Jean was at a loss for words. "I...God Marco I'm so sorry." He handed the photograph back, feeling ill. Why did this have to happen to Marco?

"It's..." Marco sighed. "He had...problems. For a long time." He turned a placed the photo face down on the desk. "I thought him dying was punishment until I met you. Now I'm not so sure."

"Punishment?" Jean asked, totally confused. Marco sighed, walking to Jean and sitting next to him. He wasn't meeting Jean's hazel eyes and he nervously chewed his bottom lip. Taking a leap of faith, Jean reached over and took Marco's hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. Marco smiled, finally meeting Jean's eyes.

"When I first saw you...you had your head down, so all I saw was your hair. I'm not trying to sound cliche, but my heart literally skipped. Was it you? If it was you, would you remember? Then you...had a seizure and I told the teacher my parents were doctors so I could spend a minute or two alone with you. But when I saw that your sugar was so low I - I didn't want to lose you, or for anything bad to happen to you. You told me you'd stay forever, Jean." Marco paused, bringing his opposite hand to Jean's cheek. "I mean, I know that could have been mumbling, but -"

"No," Jean said, getting closer to Marco. "I meant it. I still do. I loved you, Marco - in our first life, and I want to love you now." Their knees were touching. Jean's heart was tottering. "B-but I'm afraid, Marco."

"Of what?"

"I..." Jean could see every freckle on Marco's lovely face. When did he get so close? "I'm scared...my hypoglycemia - it - I - anything could happen -" Marco was in his lap, both hands on either side of Jean's face.

"Yeah," Marco whispered. "A lot could happen." His face was getting closer, his body pressing into Jean's.

"Marco I - I could...hurt you," Jean couldn't bring himself to say "die", especially when Marco's lips pressed against Jean's. It was a gentle, quick peck, but both felt the fire on their lips. Marco pulled away and smiled.

"Jean," he whispered. "Love is...complicated; I know that much. But I promise I wont leave you again. I promise to accept you as you are, if you accept me. Jean, I give you permission to hurt me."

Jean's arms wrapped around Marco's waist as they kissed again, deeper. It was slow, but neither cared. Marco's body pressed against Jean and he fell back, his head dizzy. Marco lay on top of him, letting Jean explore his back, neck, and hair. Marco ran his hands along Jean's jawline and Jean moaned.

Jean's body was tingling, thriving at Marco's touch, vibrating almost - even his ass.

Wait, no. That was his phone. Someone was calling.

With much difficulty, Jean turned his face. "Call - someone's calling me." Marco quickly rose, giving Jean access to his back pocket. "Shit," he said, rolling his eyes as he answered. "Hel-" he was cut off and Marco could hear a shrill, female voice. "O-okay, what?...I'm sorry to hear - yeah, yeah, all night's good, but I'm about ten minutes away...I mean I could leave now, but I got a friend spending the night - yeah, it's a guy...alright, see you in about a half hour." He hung up, glancing at Marco.

"So I'm spending the night?" The freckled teen inquired.

"Trust me, you want too. You wont believe who I babysit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Thanks for reading chapter four! I can't thank you guys enough for all the hits and kudos. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and will enjoy the following chapters as well!  
> As always, feel free to check out my blog levis-taller-than-me.tumblr.com and I will take your comments, suggestions and even ideas for other stories! Have a wonderful day!


	5. Humanity's Strongest Toddler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco meets the little guy Jean babysits, and is quite smitten by Jean's parenting skills - leading to a rather intimate scenario.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!,  
> Putting the chapter notes first to let you know there is slight NSWF content near the end of this chapter. I hope you guys enjoy my latest installment and as always feel free to check out levis-taller-than-me.tumblr.com and give me your comments, suggestions and even ideas for other stories. Thanks for all the kudos and hits!

The boys sat Jean's living room, waiting on the toddler. Jean refused to reveal the child's identity, but did say he knew Marco had heard of him but wasn't sure if the freckled teen had seen him in their first life.

"This place is cozy," Marco commented, snuggling Jean on the couch.

"Really? I was worried you'd feel suffocated."

"No. My place is so big it gets lonely." Marco wrapped his arms around Jean, snuggling his face to Jean's ear. Jean giggled, snuggling back. Marco brushed his lips over the shell of Jean's ear, giving him chills. Before the cuddlefest could escalate, there was a sharp knock at the door. Jean jumped up, adjusting his shirt before opening the door. Marco couldn't see past Jean but he heard a woman thanking him repeatedly while Jean bent down to pick up the toddler and diaper bag.

"I'm sorry this is so short notice," the mother apologized. "My mom should be alright, but I still want to check on her and I can't take him with me. You're the only sitter he likes."

"Not a problem," Jean said, sounding cheery. "We're gonna have fun, right buddy?"

The woman and child said quick goodbyes and Jean closed the door. "Wanna meet a friend of mine?" Jean asked the toddler. Before Marco could get a good look at the child, he had wrapped his arms around Jean's neck and buried his face there. Marco had been warned he was a shy kid so he didn't take it personal, even when the child still refused to look at him when Jean sat next to Marco. They both tried coaxing the boy; Marco promising he was nice, Jean promising chicken tenders for dinner, but neither of these promises worked. Jean sighed, and both boys knew they would have to go with plan B.

"Okay," Jean said slowly. "I guess Marco and I will eat all the Goldfish." The boy's body literally perked.

"Gol'fwish?" he quietly inquired. "Ca' I have some?" He peeked at Jean.

"If you say hello to Marco."

Slowly, the child removed his arms from Jean's neck and turned, but stayed in Jean's lap. The boy had dark brown hair and beautiful blue eyes. His little nose gently curved upwards and his skin was a natural tan.

"He'o," he said shyly, mashing his little hands together in his lap. "My name's 'Evi." Marco's jaw dropped. Levi. _The_ Levi. Of course he had heard of Levi. Marco had never seen him, but had always pictured him tall and dark, compassionate and trustworthy. "Misser Marco?"

"Yes?"

" 'ookie," Levi said, throwing his feet into Marco's lap. He lifted his feet and smacked them together, making the sides of his shoes light up red. He smiled, revealing a missing front tooth. "You 'ike 'em?"

"Pretty cool, dude," Marco said, returning the smile. _Humanity's strongest_ , Marco thought.

Levi soon grew comfortable with the freckled teen and let him use his crayons - but not green or red. Green and red were Levi's favorite colors, so no one was allowed to color with them. Marco was surprised that the three year old colored so carefully, trying his hardest to stay in the lines. He was so focused on coloring a dog balancing on a ball that his little eyebrows furrowed and he didn't notice Jean and Marco were passing a note, writing in purple crayon.

So this is the Levi????!!!!

Yep :)

You're such a good babysitter and you cook?

Yes sir!

You're so cute

You're cute!

Jean, I'm really glad to be here with you.

Thanks. I am too.

Levi then announced he had to go potty, so Jean went to go take him while Marco checked on the chicken tenders in the oven. Marco reached for the note, folding it and tucking it safely into his wallet. Marco got the food out of the oven as Levi stomped into the kitchen (to light up his shoes, not because he was angry).

Surprisingly - to Marco - Levi ate carefully after picking up his crayons and coloring book without being told. He ate his chicken tenders and Goldfish carefully, wiping his mouth and hands after each bite. They ate in the living room while watching Tom and Jerry. Jean and Marco sat close to each other on the couch and once dinner was finished and Jean put the dishes away, Jean and Levi agreed that after the next episode it would be bath time, then bed time.

Levi sat in the floor, totally engrossed in the cartoon. On the couch, Jean snuggled against Marco, lightly kissing his cheek. Marco blushed, and Jean kissed his temple, then neck.

Marco gasped. "J-Jean!" he whispered.

"What?" Jean whispered back, teasingly. "He can't see, and he's not paying attention."

Indeed, Levi was sitting in front of them, still fixated on the cartoon. Despite Marco's better judgement, he let Jean quietly take his lips in his own. It was supposed to be a few quick pecks, but neither expected the fire between them to spread so quickly. The innocent pecks turned into intimate mashes, Marco's hands were on Jean's face and Jean's hands gripped Marco's shoulders. Heads turned and tongues touched, and both boys moaned. Somehow, Jean ended up in Marco's lap while Marco's hands were riding dangerously low on Jean's hips. They made out in beautiful euphoria - until both boys felt something odd. Jean ignored it, but Marco dared a peek to his right - and shoved Jean off him, babbling, "Oh! H-hey dude! Uh - haha - did uh, did the cartoon go off already?"

Levi had been staring at the couple's intimate moment - minutes, rather - unsure of what to make of it. However his attention was focused elsewhere when Jean threw a throw pillow over his lap, asking if Levi was ready for his bath. The toddler excitedly ran to his diaper bag, removing underwear, a toothbrush, pajamas, and a duckie. Marco had agreed to help bathe Levi so they all three walked up the stairs, letting Levi lead the way.

Marco was surprised that Levi loved taking baths and only needed help washing his hair. While Jean gently washed Levi's hair, Levi dunked his duck in and out of the water, giggling every time he squeezed it tight enough to squeek. The bathroom was small and both teens felt a little crowded. Jean had sat at the edge of the tub to wash Levi's hair and when he was finished and rose up, Marco quickly stepped out of his way - elbowing the make up bag on the counter in the process, spilling it's contents.

Jean wrapped a towel around Levi and Marco quickly picked up the make up, apologizing repeatedly until Levi pointed a tiny finger at a bottle of purple nail polish that had rolled by the toilet. "Ca' I twry?" he asked while Jean dried him off. Marco shoved make up in the bag, reaching for the nail polish. " _NO_!" Levi screamed, startling both teens.

"Uh, sorry buddy, I don't think your mommy would like it if we painted your nails." Jean tried wiggling the child into his underwear, but the teen received a kick in the ankle. Jean gasped, but not out of pain. He had been babysitting Levi almost six months and had never seen the child throw a tantrum.

" _Mommy wears it_!" Levi screamed, stomping his tiny feet. " _I wanna wear some too_!" His tiny face was scrunched up and red and his tiny fists were balled up. Marco had no idea what to do. Unfortunately, neither did Jean.

"Uh, buddy, I think you're sleepy -" Jean said gently.

" _NOOOO_! _Mommy wears make up and so does Jean! I want some TOO_!" The toddler had begun stomping both his feet repeatedly. 

Jean's face flushed. Two weeks before, Jean had let Levi go through his phone to keep the child occupied and Levi had found the picture of Jean in make up. Levi said Jean looked pretty but said nothing else about it, so Jean figured he had forgotten about it. Before Jean could explain to Marco, the freckled boy smiled.

"How about we paint your nails, but take it off before your mommy comes home?"

The child's eyebrows scrunched, weighing his options. His face softened before he shook his head, agreeing to the freckled teens negotiation. Levi was put into his underwear and green footie pajamas without difficulty. With much care, Marco painted each of Levi's tiny nails plum purple. When Marco had finished one hand Levi brought his fingers to his lips, gently blowing them dry and explaining he had seen his mother do it after painting her nails.

Soon, all ten little fingers were painted and dry. Jean took it upon himself to wash Levi's binky. Levi watched him carefully until he deemed it clean enough and popped it in his mouth, sucking gently. The trio headed to Jean's room and Jean gently picked up the toddler, cradling the child with one arm against his chest. Jean began rocking him, gently toying with with Levi's hair with his free hand. Levi suckled, his blue eyes beginning to droop. Jean cleared his throat.

"Once upon a time, there was a kingdom behind a wall," Jean whispered, staring into Levi's heavy lidded eyes. "And everyone lived in fear of Titans - big, scary monsters - except a group called the Survey Corps. They went outside the walls and fought these monsters head on. One man was named Levi, and he was brave and the best fighter out of all the soldiers. Everyone called him Humanity's Strongest..."

Jean continued telling the true tale, leaving out the gore. Soon, the toddlers eyes did not open and the binky tottered out of Levi's tiny mouth. Marco had been sitting on Jean's bed through out the bed time story and Jean had forgotten he was there until he felt arms wrap around his waist and breath on the back of his neck.

"You're so good with kids," Marco commented, honestly swooned out of his mind. Jean chuckled, turning to place the child on his bed and tucking him in.

"You don't mind sleeping on the floor do you?" Jean asked, grabbing a second pillow from the bed. "Or sharing a pillow?"

"Not at all, love," Marco said, closing the distance between them. They kissed for a short time but soon made their way down stairs, not wanting a repeat of the last make out session. At the top of the stairs, Marco took it upon himself to lift Jean bridal style and carry him down the stairs. Jean wrapped his arms around Marco's neck, giggling like an idiot. They soon reached the couch and Marco lowered his boyfriend, then laid on top of him. As if by instinct, Jean wrapped his legs around Marco's waist. They kissed gently, but Marco pulled away.

"Jean, do you think we're going too fast?" His face was etched in concern. Jean wrapped his arms around Marco's neck again and kissed his freckled nose.

"I've waited over a thousand years," Jean said, smiling. "But I only want to go as fast as you do."

"I-I'm okay with kissing, and, um, touching," Marco mumbled, blushing. "But I don't think I'm ready for...you know..." What was he supposed to call it? "Fucking" sounded too heartless and "sex" sounded too casual, but what if Jean thought "love making" was too trite?

"That's fine with me," Jean whispered bringing his lips closer to Marco's. "I just want you happy."

They began to kiss, and time was lost. Marco thought this euphoric feeling couldn't rise, until they started grinding against one another. It started off innocent - as it always does - with a few, inexperienced thrusts into one another's crotches, which soon led way to both boys rubbing their excitements together, quickly becoming moaning, sweaty messes. They had stopped kissing and had their foreheads pressed together, noses touching, mouths open, drinking in one another's moans. Marco felt himself tighten and slowed. Jean moaned, thrusting himself harder against his lover.

"Please," he begged. "Please _God_ Marco, don't stop - n-not now."

"Jean, God I-I'm _go_ -going to-" Suddenly Marco gasped, his body convulsing at it's peak. Thankfully Marco didn't have long to be embarrassed. Right after Marco's finish, Jean's back arched and stars exploded behind his eyelids. They crumpled together, breathing heavily, basking in their afterglows. They sloppily cuddled and soon became aware of the uncomfortable wetness in their boxers. Both boys had their eyes closed and didn't hear the front door quietly open.

"We shoul' prob'ly change b'fore it dries," Jean tiredly mumbled.

"My," Jean's mother chirped. "Kids these days don't wait around, do they?"

After an embarrassing introduction, a quick explanation that Marco and Levi were both spending the night, and a promise that no "funny business" would happen on the couch again, both boys lay in Jeans floor, sharing a cover and pillow. They had changed (back to back) but before falling asleep, Jean got his phone. Finding the picture he was looking for, he practically shoved the phone in Marco's face. Jean closed his eyes and they were silent for a long while.

"Jean...you're beautiful," Marco whispered. "Can I send this to myself?"

"Uh, yeah," Jean said, confused. Did Marco not find it odd Jean wore make up? Before he could ask Marco gave him a quick peck on the lips. It was 10:30.

"Good night, Jean."

"Good night, Marco."


	6. Permission to hurt me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco stands up for Levi and Jean briefly discusses his dreams about the past.

Both boys woke up to Levi trying to shove them apart. Jean was a cuddler, so he spooned Marco all night. Marco enjoyed the extra warmth and attention, so he was immediately woken up when he felt a tiny body wedge itself between he and Jean. Marco turned to see Levi snuggling himself under Jean's outstretched arm. Marco scooted over to let Levi between them and Jean smiled, half asleep but used to the toddlers morning cuddle ritual.

" _My_ Jean," Levi said, almost a hiss. He turned his back to Marco (literally) and snuggled Jean's chest, both teens trying not to laugh. Soon enough Levi fell asleep again and both teens were left to stare sleepily at one another. A tired smile played on their lips as they stared into each others sleep-crusted eyes. Careful not to wake Levi, Marco leaned over the child to peck his boyfriend's lips.

"Good morning, Jean," Marco whispered, running a hand through Jean's bedhead.

"G'mornin, Marco," Jean mumbled, practically drooling at Marco's touch. There was a quiet moment where both boys just enjoyed each others presence, but soon personal needs arose. "I r'lly gotta piss," Jean mumbled.

"Then go tinkle," Marco said, smiling. Jean had begun to slowly peel himself from Levi's tiny body but stopped at Marco's statement. He turned to face the freckled teen, totally unamused.

"A _tinkle_?" Jean asked. "You're so gay, Marco."

"You weren't complaining last night," Marco retorted.

After all three boys tinkled - Levi woke up to the loss of Jean's contact - they headed downstairs where Jean made better than average waffles. Levi refused syrup, saying it was too sticky. During breakfast Jean's phone rang and he was informed Levi's mother was on her way. Jean gave the toddler the phone to speak to his mother.

"Hey mommy," Levi said, holding the phone awkwardly. "I good....uh huh, I went to the potty...yeth, his frwiend is nice, they kissed."

Both teens jolted at Levi's innocent comment, both feeling suddenly sick. Levi was quite for a moment.

"Okay mommy. I 'ove you, too."

The teens helped dress the toddler and brush his teeth and wash his face. However, Levi's mother arrived much quicker than anticipated and only three of Levi's nails were free of nail polish. Levi rushed to the door and threw it open, hugging his mother eagerly. She lifted him and walked into the apartment, expecting to pay Jean and leave quickly. This plan changed when Levi pulled one of his hands away from his mother's neck and wiggled his fingers, smiling.

" 'ookie, mommy!" Both teens held their breaths.

She shifted Levi to one hip and handed Jean his pay. "I don't appreciate you brain washing my son," she spat.

"Excuse me?" Jean asked, shocked at the audacious statement.

"If you're gay, that's none of my business," she snapped. "But forcing your feelings on a child is - it's - wrong -"

"Mommy?"

"Shush, Levi."

"Mommy I -"

"Be quiet!" She screamed, making Levi's face drop. Marco stepped forward, his normally placid face heated.

"I'm not sure what you're so angry about but it isn't Levi's fault, so you can stop screaming at him like a maniac bitch," Marco said calmly. "Jean and I are in a relationship and yes, it's none of your business. However, I believe you were too blinded by your anger fueled ignorance to realize how happy your son was to show you his nails, which you blatantly ignored. If it makes you feel any better, Levi getting his nails painted will make him love dick about as much as me liking football makes me straight."

A long, awkward silence followed. Levi's mother stared at the freckled teenager, her mouth agape. Levi glanced between his mother and babysitters. He wasn't sure what was going on but he was getting drowsy and knew being buckled snugly into his car seat would lull him to sleep. He knew his mommy was upset because Jean and Marco kissed, but didn't understand why.

"Mommy, you kiss lots of boys," Levi said, honestly confused.

Needless to say, the red faced mother left quickly, but not before Levi gave his baby sitters a quick hug, thanking Marco for painting his nails. Both teens all but collapsed on the couch when the mother and toddler left.

"I uh, I'm really sorry," Marco said, not meeting his boyfriends eye. "I think I may have cost you your job."

"I'm not too worried about it," Jean said, wrapping his arm around Marco's shoulder. "I'm the only sitter he doesn't act up with."

"Do you think he...remembers?"

"A little," Jean admitted. "He seems comfortable around me and got pretty comfortable around you. One time after I first started baby sitting him he woke up from a nap crying. He said, "they all died and I was in charge"...I really wanted to comfort him, but I honestly didn't know what he was talking about. Back then...God, Marco, he lead so many troops into battle it's hard to say which one he was talking about. Back then, he never really talked about his feelings and to be honest, I never really thought about Levi having feelings. Now...I really don't want him to remember."

"Yeah," Marco said quietly. Jean shifted against him, kissing Marco's cheek. "Jean, do you remember anything? From your past lives?"

"Just bits and pieces of the first," Jean said, and he felt Marco's shoulders relax. "But I do have these weird dreams a lot. I don't remember most of them when I wake back up. Sometimes it's just a color, like a flash. Sometimes it's a word or two, but most of the time I wake with just a feeling. Sometimes it's a peaceful feeling, but it's usually just...unsettling."

Marco was practically chewing his lip off and looked as is if he was going to scratch the skin off his elbow. "Are there - uh, any vivid dreams?"

"One," Jean said, and Marco froze. "I...it's a little uh..."

"It's okay," Marco said quickly.

"I...I'm um, married. I assume at least. I'm in bed reading and I hear a baby cry. I go to the next room and...s-someone is over the crib...that's all I remember."

"That's...unsettling," Marco said, not sure what to say. Jean had closed his eyes and seemed to be concentrating.

"The part that bugs me the most," he said quietly. "Is the time frame I think it's in. I'm reading _Needful Things_ by Stephen King. Marco, that book came out in 1991. I was born in this life in 1996."

"So..."

"So I have a kid out there, not much older than I am. If..." his voice trailed off, but he didn't need to finish the thought. "What about you?" Jean asked. Marco was silent. "Never mind, I'm sorr-"

"No," Marco said. "I'm ready. What time does your mom come home?"

"Five, I think." Jean replied. It was 11:30.

"That should be enough time," Marco began. "Jean, I only remember three lives vividly. I'm not...very proud of my last life. Remember when I brought up punishment yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"If I tell you everything, will you not think of me any differently?" He sounded so worried, and it tugged at Jean's heart.

"Marco, you have permission to hurt me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Thanks for reading six! This one was a little short, but I would like to tell you some of the next chapters will have trigger warnings, specifically chapter 9. Thanks for all the hits and kudos, and feel free to check out levis-taller-than-me.tumblr.com to give me suggestions for this story or even ideas for other stories.  
> Have a wonderful day!!!


	7. Where The Past and Present Blur, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco tells Jean about his first, second, and part of his third life through his own point of view.

Marco's POV to Jean.

There's very little I remember about my first life. I remember you and wanting to join the Military Police. I remember being told I was seventh and was so happy, but you were sixth and...I was so happy, Jean. We were joining the MP together. This uh, this is going to sound bad, but I knew Eren was joining the Survey Corps and knew Mikasa would follow so...I would finally have you all to myself. I thought I'd have a better chance with you.

Then there was Trost. I remember you saying it was your hometown, and despite being in charge of a squad and the seriousness off the situation, every time I landed on a roof I would think, _was this his home? Did he play in this street? Did he laugh here? Was he happy?_

Then I started worrying about you. How were you holding up? What if your home was destroyed, or you had seen your childhood friends get eaten? Or your family dead in the street?

Jean, I'm not sure what all you know, but Annie was involved in something, and I assume several other members were too. She attacked me from behind. I tried to fight her off and ended up kicking her, making her fall. I saw her...and her eyes. She looked scared. She told me she was sorry and I remember seeing her cry...I figured she had no other option, and all ill will I felt toward her disappeared after my years in purgatory.

I'll get to that later.

At the end of my first life, I died alone. I died quickly, which I'm thankful for. I didn't die as fast in my second life.

I enjoyed my second life. My name was Marco as well, and I married a girl named Anna. She was a pretty redhead, and sweet too. I loved her so much...anyway, it was Philadelphia, 1793. Yellow fever hit about a month after we married. At first it wasn't that big of a deal; people died all the time. Everyone figured if you were a good Christian, you wouldn't get sick.

Then, a doctor died of the illness and panic hit. Thousands of people left to the country. Anna and I had no money and no family to go to, so we stayed in Philadelphia. I felt like I was reliving my first life again, watching my friends die...but for weeks, Anna and I didn't get sick. When we left our home we wore vinegar soaked cloths around our faces. I was afraid to leave my wife alone - now, being robbed and raped were just as common as the fever.

Despite this epidemic, we had God and we had each other, so we felt blessed. Since we didn't get sick Anna and I volunteered at the local hospital. As October came, so did a rapid increase of patients. Recently sick children were sharing beds with adults literally on their deathbed. Purging and bloodletting was all we thought we could do. I'd rather not go into detail. The middle of October had the highest mortality rate with over 700 people dying in one week. I was one of those casualties.

It happened fast. About three days before I had been feeling weak, but Anna and I had only been eating dinner due to food shortages. Then I woke up one morning with my neck, back, and groin swollen and sore. I was in pain, but went with Anna to the hospital anyway.

The next morning my skin and eyes were yellowing and I vomited even though I didn't eat the night before. People were dying left and right, literally in the street, but for some reason I thought I'd be alright.

I made Anna go to the hospital without me. Seeing me ill was the first time I had seen her cry, even when we had to preform those medical practices on children. She was crying but I told her to go, I told her I'd be fine. I finally got her to go when I mentioned Winifred, a six year old who was showing signs of recovery. She had gotten attached to Anna and I knew Anna was getting attached to her. Anna left, but I wouldn't let her kiss me goodbye. I died before she got home. My last coherent thought was that _if_ I died, Anna would have more food. I was in denial until the end.

Again, I died alone.

In this life, I couldn't tell you how many hours I spent trying to find documents and death records of that time. Death records were scattered at best, but I think I found myself. It was my initials and simply said, "died at home." If it was me, I died October 12th. I've never found records for Anna or Winifred, but I know that doesn't mean they survived; by the end of October they stopped using names and initials and basically used tally marks to show how many were dying...but I still hope.

I remember my last life the most clearly. My name was Max, and I was born in Germany in 1918. When I was nineteen, I became part of the Protection Squadrons, better known as the Schutzstaffel.

I was an SS officer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Thanks for reading the seventh chapter of Goodnight! I hope you enjoy it and want you to be aware my next several chapters (along with this one) my not be 100% historically accurate. I did quite a bit of research but I do apologize if any of it isn't quite historically precise! Please also be aware chapter 9 does have parts that may be triggering to some readers. Thanks so much for all the hits and kudos! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the rest to come. Have a wonderful day!


	8. Where The Past and Present Blur, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco tells Jean about his third life in his point of view.

Marco's POV to Jean, part two.

Before I go any further, I want you to know Germany was going through a depression during Hitler's time - and well after it. As a country, we were desperate for change, or...at least someone to blame. Not everyone in Germany was a Nazi and there were many people that didn't support Hitler's decisions, but everyone was afraid.

When I first saw the Schutzstaffel, I was sixteen. I wanted to join right away, but I still lived with my parents and they were totally against it. At that time Hitler's rise to power had just started and people were still suspicious of his ideas.

When I joined the SS, there wasn't much to be afraid of. Jews had been targeted and were forced to move, but I - along with most people - didn't see how far that could escalate. I wanted to join because it reminded me of the Military Police. I thought I'd finally be following my dream.

I moved away from my family, which was harder than I admitted. I went through a lot of trouble joining because they didn't think I was pure. My hair was very dark blonde and my eyes were brown, but I was certainly German.

As much as I hate to admit it, but it didn't take long for me to become brainwashed. I was a security guard for book burning's and other such rallies, and the rallies were so... _exciting_ , or something. I really don't know what happened.

Anyway, since I was living on my own for the first time, I didn't live very well off. I lived on a street that once had many Jewish families and businesses, but seemed pretty deserted and was quiet. The house next to mine was pretty abandoned, but I soon got neighbors. A widow and a five year old boy moved in next to me and I was given orders to watch them - spy on them, rather.

The woman was pure German but had been married to a Jew, who had died a few years ago. However, the woman said she had cheated on her husband, making her son fully German - but marking herself a whore. She had gotten herself and son out of severe treatment by prostituting herself to officers, who then spread word that her child may be pure German, which is where I come in. I was to spy on them, get to know them to see if they truly were pure.

The first time I came over, the woman made the boy go to his room before she even opened the door. She was an attractive woman but I had no desire to sleep with her. I was secretly gay, and did not plan on coming out any time soon for obvious reasons. When she discovered I had no intentions of taking advantage of her, she asked if I wanted to meet her son. I agreed; I was the oldest of six and pretty good with kids. She told me his name was Johan, and the first time I saw him, I knew I had to protect him.

He had hair so blonde it was almost white and clear blue eyes. His skin was a little dark for a Aryan but that could be worked with. The moment I set eyes on Johan, I knew I had to protect him. I don't really know how to explain it, but Jean...you were Johan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Thanks for reading chapter eight of Goodnight! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I apologize again if it and the next chapter aren't historically accurate, and that it's so short! Please be aware the next chapter has content that may be triggering to some readers. As always, feel free to check out Levis-taller-than-me.tumblr.com to leave comments, suggestions, and ideas for other stories!  
> Have a wonderful day!


	9. Where The Past and Present Blur, Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco finishes telling Jean about his last past life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Putting notes at the beginning to let you know there are triggers in this chapter. Thanks for reading and thanks for all the hits and kudos! As always, feel free to check out Levis-taller-than-me.tumblr.com to leave comments, suggestion, or even ideas for other stories!  
> Have a wonderful day!

Marco's POV to Jean, part three.

You looked different and you were younger, but there was no mistaking it. I - I just got this feeling and knew. It was like I had known you my entire life.

You saluted me and said "heil Hitler." I returned the gesture and had to hold myself back from reaching over and running my fingers through your hair. You were such a cute kid and I wanted to pick you up and hug you or play with you.

After I began getting to know you I realized you had no memory of your past life, but I still wanted to spend time with you and often babysat you. I...I actually told you the same bedtime stories you told Levi. I didn't tell you how I felt about you before and obviously had no romantic feelings for you then. It was more...fatherly, I suppose. Above all, I wanted to protect you. I reported that neither you or your mother participated in Jewish traditions and thrived to be part of Hitler's reign and fully supported him.

As time went on, it got worse. I'm sure you already know that. I became more and more brainwashed, but I was certain, certain, you weren't a Jew. I figured the war would be over soon and you and I could...I don't know. I really don't. I was stupid.

I'm not sure how much you know about the Holocaust, but I'm sure you've heard of Kristallnacht - the Night of Broken Glass. It all happened so fast. S-someone died; I didn't even know who it was. But the SS went into an uproar and I...I didn't get dragged in. I did everything on my own will. No one told me I had too. I just did.

I didn't count, but throughout the night I helped burn down two or three synagogues and helped destroy countless Jewish owned business. It - this riot - lasted all night and well into the morning. I walked home, the adrenaline buzz wearing off. I was tired. I turned down my street and was shocked.

The empty houses had been ransacked. I panicked, but...not for you. For some reason I thought my home would have broken windows and a busted door as well. I didn't even...I thought maybe you and your mother may had helped or...I didn't expect what I found.

My house was fine. Your house...I don't know where to begin. All the windows were shattered, and the front door had been beaten down so badly it wasn't even on hinges anymore. I ran inside and...y-your mother was on her stomach on the floor. She was naked and had been shot in the head. It was...clear she had been raped. I started screaming for you. I ran to your room and you weren't there. I looked under your bed and in the bathroom. I opened every cupboard in the kitchen. I went to your mother's room and you- you were there. On the bed was a lump - a lump bundled in the covers. The covers and sheet were stained red.

I sat on the bed next to your body, but didn't raise the blanket. I couldn't. I vomited on the floor and my mind went numb. You were bundled in the covers and based on a hole in the cover where the stain came from, I figured they didn't wrap up your body out of respect. They saw you a-and just...shot. You were bundled in the covers and I know - I knew - you did that when there were thunderstorms and you were scared. You were scared. The person - the c-child - I swore to protect was killed, alone and scared.

As stupid as it sounds, I remember thinking, "I'm not in the Military Police. I'm a titan."

I picked you up. I made sure the blanket would still cover you. Jean, you were so heavy. I lifted you in my arms and held your wrapped body against my chest. I walked out of your house and into mine. I - my knees buckled and...and your arm - it fell out. I kept walking until I got to my bedroom. I melted against my closed door. I put your arm back in the blanket and y-you were...God, you weren't even cold yet.

I don't know how long we - I - sat there. I could think a little. I realized I was told no one would stop us, so I didn't bring my gun. I wondered why so many people did. I wondered how many people were killed. I wondered if I could have protected you and your mother; I could have protected a lot of people. I realized I was a monster. I realized the only thing I could do to even try to make it up to you.

I unwrapped you. Your eyes were closed and you had been shot in the stomach. T-that's such a painful way to die. You either bleed to death or wait for your organs to shut down. I wondered how long it took and if...if you waited on me. If you thought I'd come and save you.

You had spent the night at my house a few times and I had a pair of your pajamas. I took you to my bathroom and filled the basin. I took off your clothes a-and started bathing you, to get the blood off. I washed you carefully and dried you, dressing you in your pajamas after. I knew you were dead but I still wanted you comfortable. I carried you to my bedroom and tucked you into my bed. I...I got my gun and laid beside you.

Jean, I cried because you deserved so much better. I loved you, then and before. I failed you twice. I swore if I ever found you again, I'd make sure to protect you and keep you happy, whether you were my child, lover, or friend.

The gun tasted cold...

~~~

"Jean? Jean honey, why are you crying?" Marco asked. Jean was at the other end of the couch, balled up and crying.

"You - you, because I - "

"No," Marco said, pulling Jean into his lap. He gently pulled Jean's hands away from his face and kissed his tear stained cheeks. "Jean, I did what I did because of me, not you. I promise."

Jean seemed to weigh this for a while and his breath became less labored while Marco ran his fingers through his two toned hair. Marco brought a freckled finger to Jean's lips and he kissed it. "Is that how you ended up in purgatory?"

"Yes," Marco admitted. "But purgatory wasn't so bad - really boring, though."

"What was it like?"

Marco was quiet a moment, chewing his lip. "It was...nothing. It wasn't black or white, warm or cold, up or down. It's like I was just...aware. Kinda how I picture the Buddhist concept of Nirvana - I was totally at peace. At first I thought I was in Heaven, or something like it."

"That sounds kinda nice," Jean commented. Marco's smile faltered.

"I suppose. But I was joined by another spirit - or soul, whatever it was. I couldn't see it and couldn't tell if it was a boy or girl, and for some reason that was comforting. They explained I was in limbo - not living in a body, but my soul was not fully at peace yet. I was told "things had to work themselves out". I didn't know what that meant and didn't ask. I was told that some deaths were forgivable, and I would only spend ten years or so there...but I was informed I was not one of those cases. Suicides are tricky, apparently."

"W-what did they mean by that? Marco, you were totally depressed and it's not like you could have changed anything."

"Doll, I could have though," Marco whispered. "The spirit told me a multitude of things could have happened if I hadn't had killed myself. I...I felt the spirit leaving, and it told me to think, as if I had anything else to do." Marco shifted, laying his head on Jean's chest. "I spent a long time thinking. Purgatory has no concept of time, which was both a blessing and curse. I could think and feel and exist, but at the same time I wondered what year it was, if it had been a month or decade since I had been there.

"Anyway, I killed myself because you were killed. However, your mother was killed and raped as well - your mother, who was not Jewish. While there was some doubt with you, I felt that I had those above me in the SS convinced you were not a Jew. And yet, you and your mother suffered.

"Now - what if I didn't kill myself and used that loathing, that rage, for something better than blowing my brains out - "

"Can you not say it like that?" Jean sounded sick, and the vision he was getting in his head was only making matters worse.

"Sorry. What I'm trying to say is, as far as the government was concerned, you and your mother were not Jewish. Yet, you both were murdered. Jean, what if I had brought the public eye to that? What if I had done something rational, something to show the public this wasn't just effecting the Jews? What if I had let just one person know everyone was in danger? Jean - I could have rebelled instead of taking my own life. Kristallnacht is known for being the turning point of the Holocaust - people either agreed wholeheartedly with the actions the SS took, or they became frightened with how much power the SS had gained. Jean, what if I had spoken out? What if I - I made a complaint or something and got a few more people afraid rather than brainwashed? What -"

Suddenly, Jean was in Marco's lap, his hands gripping his shoulders and slamming Marco against the back of the couch.

"You would have been killed regardless!" Jean screamed, not caring if the entire apartment complex heard him. "I'll be the first to tell you I hate history, but I know Hitler and the SS were fucking crazy. They would have killed you on the spot and not felt bad about it. Then what, huh?"

Jean's hands were clutching Marco's shoulders so hard they were hurting, and the freckled teen certainly didn't appreciate being slammed, even if it was into something soft. He returned the glare Jean was giving him.

"I don't care! I could have done something other than be a complete pussy!"

Jean's face dropped for a moment, but recovered quickly, he jumped out of Marco's lap so fast he bumped into the coffee table, almost falling over.

"Killing yourself doesn't make you a pussy, Marco," Jean growled through gritted teeth. His fists were balled and his knees were bent as if he were ready to pounce. Marco's anger was gone, but was not replaced with fear. Marco would get into that very stance, ready to fight when someone mentioned or made fun of drug addicts. Few people knew Marco's brother had a drug problem, but Marco was still irrationally defensive about it. At that moment, Marco had an epiphany.

Jean irrationally angered at a negative comment involving suicide.

Jean had never mentioned his father.

Marco wasn't sure if these two things correlated at all, but decided to go with it for the time being. Slowly, Marco rose, his hands open.

"I'm sorry, honey," Marco said quietly, soothingly. "I've been holding these feelings in for a long time now. The way I feel about the actions I took doesn't mean I think all people who take the same actions are...what I thought I was." He reached for Jean's fists, gently prying them open and interlacing their fingers. "Jean, I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

Jean's face had relaxed and was replaced with an embarrassed flush. "I...I'm really sorry, Marco. I don't know why I...well, I wouldn't have hurt you."

"I believe you," Marco said, pulling Jean gently to the couch. They both sat, facing each other and still interlocking hands. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"N-not really. I mean, I'd rather hear the rest of your story first."

"There isn't much left to tell. After I started thinking of all the actions I could have took, I was greeted by another spirit. I was told about karma, and how it worked.

"Basically, karma affects different people different ways, and through different lifetimes. Things such as rape and murder - not suicide - could follow a person through purgatory and hundreds of lifetimes. Lesser "offenses" such as suicide could be atoned for in purgatory, and once in the next lifetime."

Jean's mouth opened, then closed. "B-but this is your next lifetime! What does that mean?"

"Well, at this point I was told I had a choice. I could leave purgatory now; I had that option. However, the sooner I left, the bigger atonement I'd have to pay, the bigger punishment I'd have to face.

"In my last life, I had a large family and two loving parents that I took for granted. Now, the only brother I have is dead and I see my parents maybe twice a week. However, I'm scared of losing you now. I'm scared I'll...lose you again."

"Marco, I told you - "

Jean was silenced by Marco's lips. It was a brief, much needed kiss for them both.

"I know, Jean," Marco whispered after pulling away. "But I'm taking that chance. If something happens and we can't be together, I won't do anything rash. I'll wait for you. You may come back as a child in this life, or you may be in my next. I promise to wait, Jean."

Jean smiled, leaning his forehead against Marco's.

"There-there's one more thing, actually," Marco said, causing Jean's eyebrows to raise quizzically. "Before I decided to leave I - I asked a question. It felt wrong, for some reason. I felt that these souls were...different than me and that I shouldn't question anything. But I had to know, so before I felt the soul leaving, I asked if there was a Heaven or Hell. The soul...kinda laughed.

"I was told there was no worse Hell other than living, which was why suicide was a tricky concept. I was told there was a Heaven, but only for those who accepted it..."

"So...Christians?"

"That's what I thought, but I had been a Christian in the 1700's, remember? I'm still here." He smiled at Jean. "Not that I'm complaining, though." Jean returned the smile and their lips met again, this time a little longer, and it was Jean who pulled away.

"Listen...after I tell you about why I got so upset earlier, can we stop talking about the past? The past is gone and I don't wanna waste any moment I have with you."

"That sounds good. Where you wanting to talk about it now?"

Jean smirked. "Later. I have bigger worries now."

Marco smiled as their lips met again and a slow fire began its burn, washing away the stress and anxiety that had grown in the past thousand years.


	10. Fights and Failed Attempts At Sexting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Jean gets suspended from school due to fighting over Marco, Marco decides to try and thank him. Slight NSFW content.

Jean never brought up what made him so angry and Marco never asked, figuring Jean would tell him in his own time. However, there were much more important matters at hand, such as Marco making a complete 0% on a math quiz the following Tuesday.

"Marco. You didn't get a single question right - how did you do that?" They were at lunch and he and Marco were sharing a bag of chips.

Although they had only been dating four days, word quickly spread of the first openly gay male couple in the school: The Kid Who Has Seizures and The New Guy With Freckles. Neither cared what their nicknames were as long as everyone knew they were together.

That being said, when Jean questioned his boyfriend's math quiz, Marco was sitting on Jean's lap, playing with his hair. The freckled boy knew that was Jean's weakness and he hoped to distract his boyfriend from his failing math grade. Unfortunately, nothing would distract Jean from making sure his boyfriend graduated on time.

"Marco. This is senior math. If you fail you wont graduate - and dry humping my thigh wont change that."

"Aww come on..." Marco innocently scooted up Jean's thigh and batted his eye lashes. "I can pass with a low grade..." His freckled arms wrapped around Jean's neck and Jean was starting to get uncomfortable - as in his pants were becoming tight.

Just as the lunch bell rang.

Marco hopped off his boyfriends lap, giggling as Jean quickly sat closer to the table, making his semi erection invisible as students walked pass them, going to third period.

"You're such an ass," Jean said, smiling despite his embarrassment.

"What?!" Marco said loudly, slowly walking to throw the bag of chips away. "You like my ass?! Thank you!"

At that moment, a group of skaters walked behind Marco. At the freckled teens joking comment, one of the skaters took a look at Marco's tush - and lightly smacked it.

"Do I get a thank you?" The large boy joked, smirking when Marco whipped around, covering his bottom with his hands and blushing.

Apparently, seeing Marco blush was the last thing the skater remembered when he woke up on the twin size bed in the nurses office. He had tissue up his nose and could only see through one eye. His hair was oddly sticky and had a KitKat wrapper stuck to his shirt.

Furthermore, once he gained consciousness, he was informed he was being arrested for sexual assault.

For the next week while Jean was suspended, everyone talked about how The Kid Who Has Seizures kicked The Sophomore Who Got Busted With Pills Last Year's ass. Once Jean had seen the skater "hand rape" (not Jean or Marco's preferred word usage) his boyfriend, Jean jumped on the table and leaped at the boy, his fist landing squarely on his nose - and Jean's body on top of his. On the ground, Jean gripped and pulled the boy's hair, yanking his head upward and smashing it down against the cafeteria floor whilst punching randomly at his face. Marco tried pulling Jean off, but Jean wasn't finished until he lifted the kid and threw him in the garbage can - and kicking said garbage can over and kicking it again, making it roll a surprising ten feet despite a body being forced inside it.

Jean got arrested, but Marco made a quick call to his parents, who in turn made a call to their lawyer. As it turns out, that light tap on the tush was not consensual - making it sexual assault. Once the skater boy's parents found out why their son got his ass handed to him, they said they wouldn't press charges against Jean, even though he was eighteen and their son was only fifteen. The school, however, was not so nice.

Jean was suspended for an entire week of school, which wasn't much of a punishment - Jean hadn't missed a day all year and was passing all of his classes. To further his punishment, Jean would miss the first fifteen minutes of third period for the rest of the school year (barely three months) to bag and take out the cafeteria garbage. The school dumpsters were located at the very end of the teacher parking lot, which was on the opposite end of the school where the cafeteria was. Jean would have to bag and tie all the garbage and throw the bags in a rolling bin and push the bin to the dumpsters, throw the bags into the dumpster, then roll the bin back. It didn't sound hard, just annoying.

Once Jean was home and out of handcuffs, he faced the wrath of his mother. It was her first day off from both jobs in two weeks, but instead of sleeping in, she was trying to understand why her beautiful, intelligent son beat the shit out of a boy three years younger than him. She cried when she saw Jean's busted and bruised knuckles and held him to her, crying and saying she was so glad he "was safe."

"Mom. I was in a one - sided fight at school. You're acting like I was in a gang turf war or something."

His mother squeezed him and gave him an ice pack. She gently played with his hair while Jean explained what had happened. He laid across the couch with his head in her lap, almost drifting off to sleep while his mother ran her fingers through his hair.

"You...you really like him, huh?"

"Yeah," Jean said, smiling. "I really l-...like him. I really like him."

"I'm happy for you, Jean," she said. "But he can't come over for a week. You're grounded."

"WHAT?" Jean turned his head so fast in his mother's lap he got a crick in his neck. In the eighteen years of his life, he had never been grounded.

"What?" His mother said, rising and Jean rising as well to let her up. "I have to be a make an example, dear."

Sitting up, Jean rolled his eyes and dramatically leaned back against the couch. His mother got up from the couch, but paused. Slowly, she leaned to her son, lifting his bangs and kissing his forehead. Jean flushed; his mother hadn't kissed his forehead since he was little. Her eyes began to pool, but she was smiling.

"Y-you're father...he'd be so happy for you."

Jean was shocked. His mother never mentioned his father, much less how he would approve having a make up wearing gay son. Jean felt his own eyes pool over. Knowing his voice would crack if he spoke, he simply shook his head. In the eighteen years he had been alive, his mother had never lied to him, and he knew she wouldn't start now.

~~~

Later that day, Jean received a text.

Hey...I'm really sorry about today. :(

Its not your fault cutie

But still I feel terrible T.T

Sweetie its fine Im not mad its not even your fault

Still...is there anything I can do to make it up to my knight in shining armor?

No lol

Jean had no idea how to respond. That was an innocent question...right?

Are you sureeee??? Think real hard... ;)

There was nothing innocent about that winky face and Jean knew it. His heart thudded in his chest and he had no idea what to say...until he realized he could use this to his advantage.

Hmmm...I think I got an idea ;)

Oh yeah? Why don't you let me have it Jean?

Okay, Jean was not prepared for that. His body shuddered and he got such a pretty vision in his mind...but he shoved it away, at least for the moment. Marco's future was more important to Jean than...whatever Marco had in mind.

Let me be your math tutor.

Marco wasn't sure why, but Jean beating the shit out of someone for Marco was quite a turn on. Once he got home (he was alone, of course) he ran to his room and began to text his boyfriend. First, he figured he should make sure Jean wasn't mad at him. Once he was sure Jean wasn't upset, he began to hint that he was aroused. Marco had never done this before, so he hoped he wasn't being too blatant or too vague. However, the last text he sent wasn't much out of courage, but out of desperation - he had begun taking matters in his own hands (no pun intended).

When Marco received Jean's message, he was rather disappointed to say the least. He figured Jean didn't get his hints, so he sent a quick text and decided to continue taking matters in his own hands alone.

Okay that sounds good. I need it I suppose.

The next text took Marco by wonderful surprise.

There will be punishment and rewards ;)

It was Marco's turn to get pretty visions in his mind.

Do you promise???

Absolutely doll. As long as you're good...

What if I like being bad?

Then I guess Id have to hold you down & kick your body nice & slow

I can't promise I'll like it but I'm willing to try if that's what you're in to...

FUCK SHIT I MEANT LICK IM SO SORRY

Oh. Yeah that makes more sense. It's ok honey.

The moods over huh

It's okay ^.^ there will be more I promise ;) I do have to go though D:

ttyl baby

Talk to you later honey

~~~

Jean was still frustrated with his typo and was hoping Marco didn't think he was a complete idiot. However, he got a text right before bed.

Hey...how do you feel about tattoos?

Jean felt heat rise to his face. Did Marco find out about Jean's? What would he think; how would he feel? Jean decided to play coy.

I like tattoos...why?

Three agonizing minutes passed. Finally, Jean received a picture message.

Marco had clearly just gotten out of the shower. The mirror was slightly fogged, but Jean could still see clearly. Marco had taken the photo over his shoulder and half his face could be seen. He was smirking and the hand that wasn't holding the phone was running through his hair. That, however, was not Jean's main focus.

Marco was in a pair of tight black boxer briefs. Based on how it stuck so snugly to Marco's tush, Jean could only imagine that Marco had not dried off well. The briefs curved beautifully around his freckled thighs as if it were a second skin. Jean could only imagine how they would look rolling off his hips.

Jean was so smitten by Marco's butt he didn't notice the tattoo at first. It was in between Marco's shoulder blades and was rather small. Jean stared at it a long time before he recognized what it was.

It was a silhouette of the Military Police symbol.

Before Jean could reply, Marco sent another text.

Goodnight, Jean.

You're so beautiful. Goodnight, Marco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Thanks for reading chapter 9! I hope you guys enjoyed it and found comic relief after the past few darker chapters. As always, feel free to check out Levis-taller-than-me.tumblr.com to leave me comments, suggestions, or even ideas for other stories!  
> Have a wonderful day!


	11. A Thousand Years Overdue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean faces the wrath of boredom and decides to babysit Levi. The toddler then gives Jean romantic advice. Contains quite a bit of fluff, so please be warned.

The days passed slowly. Jean and Marco would video chat at lunch - how Marco figured out the school wifi code that was strictly for teachers, Jean did not know - and Marco would make Jean eat while they talked.

"I like knowing you eat," Marco said when Jean complained. "I worry if I don't know."

"I know," Jean said. "But you can't expect me to prepare a four course meal, honey!"

"You can do better than cheese and crackers! Jean that - that's like, peasant food. You're eating like a peasant."

"I'm eating like a peasant."

"Yes. You're eating like a peasant."

"Oh my god, Marco - wait, what are you eating?"

Marco's face froze. "Jean, I don't have a medical condition."

"What are you eating, honey?" Jean smirked. Marco rolled his eyes.

"I'm eating crackers, too."

"So we're both eating crackers."

Marco sighed. "Yes."

"I'm glad we can be peasants together."

Marco smiled, then jumped a little. "Oh yeah! Guess what I made on the math test yesterday?"

"What?"

"A 68!"

"Marco that...that's still not passing."

"But it's not a zero!"

Jean smiled, happy for his boyfriend. The lunch bell rang and Marco blew Jean a kiss before leaving.

Jean didn't mind staying at home, but he was bored and wouldn't see Marco for another week. Desperate for something to do, he made a call to Levi's mother, asking if she was interested in letting him babysit Levi the rest of the week instead of having to pay for daycare. Despite any negative feelings she may have held toward him, she agreed to letting him babysit Levi if it meant saving over two hundred dollars.

Levi was dropped off early the next morning. He was tired and grumpy, rubbing his little eyes as Jean held and bounced him, patting his bottom to try and wake him up. After an hour of Levi rubbing his eyes and refusing to do anything but lay on the couch and watch T.V, Jean rocked him to sleep. He held Levi in his arms, who was still sucking his binky slowly despite being asleep. Jean snuggled the toddler against him and wondered what it would be like to have a child.

It would take time to get used to it, he knew. It would take a great deal of patience to handle a screaming and crying baby, and Jean was fully aware not all toddlers were as good as Levi. But what was it like to have a child, to watch someone grow and learn and love you? Jean ran a single finger over Levi's cheek and smiled. Levi was so cute. Jean wondered what Levi looked like as a toddler in their first life.

Jean gently laid Levi on the couch, where Levi rolled on his side and brought his little legs up, sleeping almost in the fetal position. Jean smiled again and went to start doing laundry and dishes. He began doing his chores until about an hour later when he heard Levi scream.

"JEEEEEAN!"

Jean dropped the bowl he was putting away and ran to the living room. Levi had his face covered and was breathing heavily. As Jean got closer he could see that Levi was crying - and had wet himself.

"H-hey buddy," Jean said gently, rubbing Levi's hair. "What's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?"

"I - I yucky," he said, indicating his wet pants and underwear. Jean lifted the boy and took him and his diaper bag to the bathroom. Levi had never had an accident, but thankfully his mother still always packed an extra pair of underwear and pants. Jean drew a bath and helped the boy out of his soiled clothes and bathed him. Levi was unusually quiet; the toddler enjoyed bath time and would usually giggle and play in the bathtub, but today he was quiet and his eyes refused to meet Jean's.

"Hey Levi? It's okay to have accidents - I had accidents all the time when I was little."

"Where Marco?"

"Uh - he's at school. Why?" Jean had picked up Levi and began drying him off.

"Are you sure? Can you call 'im an' see?" His little voice was edged with anxiety.

"Yeah, but I'll have to wait a bit. Let's get you dressed and make you a snack okay?" Jean wiggled Levi into Batman underwear (Levi had told him once they made him have super powers) and clean clothes. Levi was anxious while he ate his Goldfish, carrot sticks and apple juice. He couldn't get comfortable on the couch and shifted quite a bit and only ate a few of his Goldfish.

"When ca' I call?" Levi asked, completely ignoring Spongebob on T.V.

Jean sighed and pulled out his phone. "I'll text him, okay? But I don't know if he'll text back because he's in school. Where do you think he is, buddy?"

Levi looked at the ground and shrugged his tiny shoulders. Jean sent a text to Marco, hoping he responded quickly.

Babysitting Levi...you're going to steal my job hes been asking for you

Luckily, Jean didn't have to wait long.

AW! Tell him I said hi!

Jean showed the text to Levi, who seemed to relax a little, but still asked to talk to Marco.

At lunch wanna video chat with him? he really wants to talk to you

Sure!!! Gah, he's so cute! See you two in five minutes!

Jean got his laptop and explained that they would see Marco on Jean's computer, but they wouldn't be able to talk to him long. Levi seemed confused, but happy nonetheless.

Finally, they were able to video chat. Levi beamed when he saw Marco's smiling face.

"Hey dude! What's up?"

"Hey misser Marco! I dwreamed you was dead."

A rather awkward silence followed, but Marco recovered quickly.

"O-oh? Well that's interesting. Wanna talk about it?"

"Ummm...I was owlder," Levi started, smashing his hands nervously together. "An' Jean was crying. He say his fwriend Marco died."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. An' Jean said he 'oved you but didn't getta tell you."

"Oh, well that's to bad. But you know it's just a bad dream, right?"

"Yeah...but I dwreamed of a boy named Eren."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I kissed him!" Levi scrunched his face in disgust. Marco and Jean's faces began to blush.

"R-really?" Marco said. "Well that's nice." Levi was quiet.

"I was howlding him...he 'ooked 'ike he was aswleep, but we was outside an'...he had a big booboo," Levi whispered, pointing to his chest to indicate where said injury was. "I was crying an' wanted him to wake up, but he didn't wake up. I kissed him and it was dry an' felt weird. I didn't kiss him the way you and Jean kiss - was I supposed too?" Levi suddenly sounded concerned. Marco's face reddened.

"Uh...n - no. Those kisses are for when you're a little older." Marco was scratching his elbow and Jean could feel heat radiating from his face.

"Okay...but I just gave him a tiny kiss on the 'ips an' another an' another. I told him I was sowwy. I picked him up an' started wawlking...an' he was heavy. Tha's all, I think."

There was another silence, and neither Jean or Marco could meet Levi's eye. Neither teen knew what to say or even how to explain to Levi what his dream meant. However, Levi had far greater concerns.

"Misser Marco...?"

"Yeah?"

"How you get in there?"

"Uh, get where, buddy? School?"

"No, there," Levi gently touched Jean's computer screen to clarify. "In th' commputer. How you get in there? How're you gonna get out?" His little face was etched in concern.

"I...um..." Marco was trying not to laugh.

"It's a secret," Jean said, scooping up the toddler and beginning to tickle him. "Don't tell him, Marco!" Jean screamed dramatically. Levi's body was thrashing and he was giggling, begging Jean to stop.

"I promise I wont tell him!" Marco said, dramatically throwing the back of his hand to his forehead and quickly shut his eyes, as if seeing Levi being tickled caused him great pain. "Please Jean, no more! He's just a child!"

Levi's giggles quickly turned into full scale laughter and he trashed about in Jean's lap. Jean then lifted the child and playfully slammed him against his mattress, making the child squeal louder.

"Alright, Levi," Jean said. "I'll stop tickling you - if you let me and Marco talk now."

"Okaaaay," Levi said, still giggling. Jean let Levi play Angry Birds on his phone while he plugged in his headphones to his laptop.

"Hey," Jean said with a little smile.

"Hey," Marco said. "That was...wow."

"Yeah."

"So...how much do you think he'll remember?"

Jean sighed. "It's hard to tell. And I don't know everything about...H-I-M. So if L-E-V-I does start...you know, stuff I don't remember, what am I supposed to do?" Jean was whispering although Levi seemed totally engrossed in the game.

"I...I don't know, Jean. He's kind of young to be remembering, right? I mean in my second and third life, I started having dreams when I was about six or seven, but they were never that vivid."

"Yeah, but it seems like it's different for each person."

"Yeah..." It was quiet for a moment while Marco chewed his lip. "Um, what Levi...talked about? Were you...?"

"No," Jean said, more harshly than he intended. "I wasn't around for that."

"Oh," Marco said, face flushing.

"It's okay," Jean said quickly. "I'm not upset."

"We said we'd stop talking about the past."

"Well...I still haven't talked about...you know."

"We don't have too," Marco said with a smile. "Not until you're ready."

"I...will you be able to come over Saturday?"

"Of course dear - oh, I have to go now. Bye - DID YOU EAT TODAY?!" Marco screamed, leaping in front of the camera, his face frightened.

"G-god Marco yes! I ate! Ask Levi - Levi, did I eat today?" He asked the toddler. Marco heard the child answer in the affirmative. Marco sighed in relief.

"Okay. Talk to you later."

"Later."

Jean closed his laptop, leaning back to pop his back. When he looked over, Levi was smiling at him.

"Jean...?" He asked shyly.

"What's up, buddy?"

"Do you 'ove Marco?"

"Uh..." Jean's face began to blush and his palms began to sweat. A three year old should not be making him this uncomfortable. "Uh, why do you ask?"

"I think he 'oves you."

"W-why would you say that?" Jean asked, shocked.

" 'Cause he asked if you eat today. Mommy asks me if I eat when I go home, an' you ask me if I eat when I come here. An' mommy an' you both love me. Sooo..." He explained love as if he were explaining it to a child. "If you don't eat, your tummy don't grow. If your tummy don't grow, you don't grow. I think 'ove is about wantin' someone to grow. But," he shrugged his tiny shoulders, turning his attention back to the game. " I dunno."

Jean was literally in shock. He stared at the tiny toddler and knew that the Levi was just as intelligent as the Levi he knew a thousand years ago. Jean leaned back on his bed and thought about what the child said. After a few minutes, he rose and picked up the child playfully.

"Hey!" Levi said, giggling.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Jean whispered. Levi's eyes went wide and he shook his head. Jean set the child down and remained on one knee. He stuck out his pinky. "You gotta keep the secret. Pinky promise?" The child intertwined his pinky with Jean's. Jean took a deep breath.

"I love Marco."

Levi's eyes went wide and he squealed, jumping up and down. "I knew it I knew it I knew it!"

Jean laughed, then picked the child up and headed downstairs. After Levi promised to keep it a secret from Marco, Jean figured some more advice wouldn't hurt.

"S-so, Levi?" Jean said as they sat on the couch, watching a cartoon Jean was unfamiliar with.

"Hm?" Jean had one arm against the back of the couch and Levi snuggled against his side, sipping milk through a straw.

"Um, how should I...tell Marco I love him?"

"Jus' 'ike you told me," the toddler said simply, not evening looking away from the television. Jean felt like an idiot.

"Well what if I want to make it special?"

The toddler then crawled into Jean's lap, carefully balancing his cup of milk. He knelt in Jean's lap and faced him. Using the hand that wasn't holding the cup, Levi gently gripped Jean's chin and pulled his face down to his. Jean's hazel eyes were an inch from Levi's blue ones.

" 'ove is special by it'self, Jean." Quickly, Levi kissed Jean's nose and snuggled back in his lap. Again, Jean was in stunned - and, again, felt like an idiot. He wanted to tell Marco he loved him - he needed to. Marco would be home in fours hours.

In those for hours, he and Levi watched cartoons and colored pictures. Levi drew and colored three stick figures - one was tall, one was tall with spots, and one was short with black hair, and they were all holding hands.

"Jean...?" Levi asked shyly. "Can you write all our names at the top?"

Jean complied, then folded the picture and put it in his wallet when Levi said he could keep it.

"Thanks, buddy," Jean said, bending over to hug the child.

"Um...when do I go back to daycare?"

"Uh, probably next Monday, so four days from now. Why, buddy?"

Levi smashed his hands together. "They's a gurl at daycare," he whispered.

"Oh," Jean said amused.

"Yeah - but she's dumb!" Levi said quickly, crossing his little arms.

"That's not a nice thing to say, Levi," Jean scalded, surprised at the outburst.

"Well, it's true! She plays with bugs when we go outside and she's so loud." Levi had gone back to coloring, but his mouth was set in a line and he was putting unnecessary weight on the little crayon.

"What does she look like?"

Levi huffed. "Her hair's a stupid brown and she swleeps with a stupid teddy bear and she wears stupid glasses so I dunno what color he stupid eyes are!" At the last comment Levi threw his crayon across the coffee table and huffed again.

"Uh, h-hey buddy I'm about to call Marco. Wanna say hi?"

"Yeah," Levi said, his ill mood gone. He rose to scoop up his crayon and put it and the paper away. With sweaty palms, Jean sent a quick text.

  
you home? i wanna call if thats ok.....

Five long minutes passed before he received a text back.

Home now! Call me, cutie ;)

Jean took a deep breath - and Levi held his hand.

"You can do it," he said with a smile. Jean dialed his boyfriend, who answered on the second ring.

"Hey, Jean!"

"Uh, hey. Uh. So I wanted to tell you somethin', but uh, Levi wants to say hi."

"Oh, okay."

Jean put the phone on speaker so Levi could hear Marco.

"Hey misser Marco!"

"Hey dude! You feeling better?"

"Yeah, and Jean has somethin' impor'nt to tell you!" Levi smiled at Jean, giving him a thumbs up. Jean wondered if he had a three year old wingman.

"Oh? Well I'd like to hear it if it's so important," Marco said, and Jean could hear a slight tease in his voice. Jean took a deep breath and Levi squeezed his hand. Jean decided to not take the phone off speaker.

"Marco," Jean said confidently. "Iloveyou."

"You...what?"

"What?"

"I honestly didn't catch that, you were talking too fast."

Jean growled in frustration and Levi rolled his eyes. Taking another deep breath, he tried again. "Marco. I love you."

There. Jean said it.

Marco chuckled.

Chuckled. He was chuckling at Jean's confession. Before Jean had anytime to be embarrassed, Marco spoke.

"I love you too, Jean. I've been waiting on you to say that."

"R-really? How long?" For the third (or maybe fourth) time that day, Jean was taken aback.

"Hm. I can tell I'm on speaker; is Levi present?"

"Here!" the child called before Jean could answer. Marco laughed.

"Well, Jean...let's just say it feels like I've been waiting a thousand years." Jean felt his cheeks reddening - and his eyes watering.

"Me too, Marco," he said. "That's...what I said was a thousand years overdue, but I promise my love isn't going anywhere. I - I hope yours isn't either."

Oh god, what was Jean babbling about? He wasn't sure how to put his feelings into words, but he hoped Marco understood what he meant.

"I'm a thousand years overdue, too," Marco admitted. "But my love's not going anywhere either, Jean. I promise. I love you."

"I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Thanks so much for reading the eleventh chapter of Goodnight! I can't believe all the hits, kudos, and awesome comments! Thanks so much!!!!  
> Have an awesome day!


	12. Five Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Levi comes over for the weekend, Jean wants Marco to come over to talk about some things. However, Marco has different things in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Posting at the beginning to say there is slight NSFW content in this chapter. It's not too much, just Marco giving us fangirls nosebleeds ;) Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and feel free to check out Levis-taller-than-me.tumblr.com to send me comments or even suggestions for other stories! I love to write but am very bad at coming up with prompts, so help me out!  
> Also wanted too say that chapter 14 will be dedicated to Levi's first life and will follow his childhood and relationship with a certain titan shifter. However, please be aware that chapter will have NSFW content as well as triggers for some readers. This chapter in no way relates to the story, other than to explain some of toddler Levi's dreams, so feel free to skip it if it's too smutty or triggering.  
> Have a wonderful day!

For the next few days, Jean and Marco couldn't stop declaring their love for one another, even when it was unnecessary.

Hey, Jean I made a sandwich and thought you would like it. I love you.

They were crazy for each other, and Saturday couldn't have come fast enough. Jean's mother shortened Jean's punishment, which meant Marco could spend the night Saturday - as long as Levi spent the night as well, and the couch was off limits past nine o'clock.

Saturday came, and Marco arrived before Levi. Jean opened the door and was greeted by Marco's warm embrace. Jean hugged him back, resting his head on Marco's shoulder. Marco smelled fresh and musky at the same time and Jean wondered how that was possible. Marco kissed Jean's temple before they pulled apart and went to the couch. They cuddled there, anxiety pooling in Jean's chest. The night before, Jean told his boyfriend via text message that he had two important things to tell Marco.

"Marco..."

"Yes?" Marco smiled encouragingly.

"Uh - w-what are you wearing? You smell nice." _Smooth_ , Jean thought.

"I usually wear Axe: Peace, but I think I forgot this morning." Marco grabbed a fistful of his shirt and brought it to his nose, inhaling. "Yeah, you're smelling sweat. I think this shirt is dirty, actually." Pink crept in his cheeks.

"Oh - well if it's uh, dirty I could, you know. Wash it. For you." Jean smirked despite his red cheeks. Marco returned the smirk- and quickly straddled Jean's lap, facing him. Marco sat up on his knees so Jean's face meet his collar bone. Jean was frozen, unsure what to do. Thankfully, Marco didn't mind leading.

Keeping eye contact, Marco ran his hands down his own chest and stomach to reach the hem of his shirt. He slowly crossed his hands to grip opposite sides of the hem and slowly bring it up. Jean's mouth was wide and was at a loss for words. Blush stained Marco's cheeks, framing his freckles. He was biting a corner of his lip out of nervousness, but Jean thought it was sexy.

Jean's eyes crept down to the skin he was being shown. As the shirt was slowly lifted, Jean could see Marco's beautifully freckled abdomen. Up, up, up, the shirt rose, until Marco was tugging it over his head and gently tossing his head once the shirt was off, making his hair bounce gracefully around his face. He tossed his shirt carelessly to the floor and took Jean's hands in his own. Both their hands shook.

Slowly, Marco placed Jean's hands on his well toned chest. Marco's eyes fell closed and he sighed, gently leaning his head back as Jean's hands explored his upper body. Marco relished at Jean's touch, his sighs slowly turning to moans and Jean's hands traveled down his stomach. Marco's stomach was toned with a slight outline surrounding his abs. They weren't very noticeable, but when Jean touched them he could feel the hardness underneath.

"God - _fuck_ , Marco," Jean moaned, bringing his lips to the thin hair leading to the waistband of Marco's underwear, which was peeking out of his low-riding jeans.

" _Yes_ , Jean," Marco whispered, his eyes opening slightly to look into Jean's. Jean's tongue flicked across Marco's navel.

"God, Marco I could eat off your abs."

The comment was out of Jean's mouth before he could stop it, possibly do to the blood that was supposed to be going to his brain going elsewhere. Jean froze, his lips still on Marco's happy trail. Marco stared at Jean, his eyes no longer lust blown. Marco's lips smashed together, but twitched at the corners. He was trying not to laugh.

"Marco...the moods gone again, isn't it?"

Marco burst out laughing, giving Jean a quick hug.

"J-Jean I'm so so-sorry but," another roll of laughter came out, and it was the first time Jean had ever heard Marco truly laugh. Marco ended up leaning against Jean, arms around his stomach and laughing so beautifully. Jean wasn't even mad; he would say embarrassing things for the rest of his life if it would make Marco laugh like this. But honestly - it wasn't that funny.

"Marco," Jean smiled. "Was it really that funny?"

"Y-yes," Marco said, trying to hold back his laughter long enough to speak. "Yo-ou sound like _Sasha_!"

For the next five minutes, both boys all but died with laughter. They ended up holding each other, and giggling like idiots as the laughter died down and their throats and stomachs ached. Soon enough, Marco clumsily rose off Jean, picking up his shirt.

"You, uh, you actually don't have to wash this," Marco said, a smile still playing on his lips.

"No - I will. I have laundry to do anyway." Jean took a deep breath; Marco's laughter had given him courage. "Uh - but first, remember those things I wanted to talk about?" Marco sat next to Jean, taking his hands and smiling encouragingly. "I...well, the first thing...don't be mad?"

"Never," Marco promised.

Jean let go of his boyfriends hands and grabbed his shirt. "I...I have a tattoo too."

Marco's eyes lit up. "Can I see? Is it a chest piece?"

"Uh...sort of. It's uh, script." He refused to meet Marco's eyes. "I...I got it a few weeks after I turned eighteen and...I was having issues and my blood sugar kept bottoming out. I was in the hospital for a while."

"Oh, Jean," Marco leaned forward and hugged Jean, kissing his forehead in the process. Jean felt relief flood through his body and he hugged back. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I don't know. I was in a bad place I guess, if you know what I mean. I got the tattoo to try and make myself feel better but I kinda regret it now." Slowly, Jean pulled away. He closed his eyes and took off his shirt. He didn't open his eyes, afraid of the look he would receive from Marco. It was quiet for a while, until he heard Marco sigh.

"Well...it's not as bad as I thought."

Jean opened his eyes and saw Marco looking back at him - not judgmental, but not approving either.

"What were you expecting?"

"Honestly, either "mom" or someone's name. Something like that."

Jean chuckled sadly. "It's still stupid." Marco sighed.

"It's not...the worst thing. At least it's...true."

"Yeah."

Another silence followed. Jean felt exposed as Marco stared at the five words tattooed on his chest. Marco reached out his hand, running his fingers over the words.

"Why...why would you get this?"

"Like you said - it's true."

"But - not for..." Marco sighed lowering his fingers.

"I tried explaining it to my mom, but she didn't get it either. Marco, no one knows when but it's going to happen. I sort of hoped you would understand."

"I do, Jean. It's just not something I want to think about, especially now."

"I understand." Jean rose, but before he could put his shirt back on, Marco leaned and kissed the middle of his chest, the center of the truth inked into Jean's skin forever. Jean leaned down and kissed Marco. "I love you."

"I love you, too. What time is Levi getting here?"

"Shit - any minute now. Let me get you a shirt you can wear."

Jean headed upstairs, tugging his shirt on in the process. He wasn't ashamed of the words on his skin, and he wasn't afraid of the truth in them either. However, he never wanted Levi seeing those words, or at least not for a very long time. Jean hoped Levi would stay innocent as long as possible and never say the five words on Jean's chest.

_I am going to die._


	13. The Past Begins To Resurface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi comes over to spend the night with his baby sitters, only to have another dream concerning the past.

Levi arrived shortly after, banging on the front door and shouting, "Jean! Misser Marco! I here now!"

Levi was bubbling with energy and gave each boy a big hug. He bounced on each foot as Jean prepared a lunch consisting of hot dogs and Teddy Grahams. Instead of sitting on the floor at lunch, he sandwiched between the teens on the couch. Jean and Marco each had one arm over the back of the couch and would occasionally play with each other's neck and hair.

Levi was rather antsy and didn't want to color before nap time, he wanted to play a "real" game. Jean sighed and knew exactly what game he was thinking of. Jean wasn't feeling too well but didn't want to let the toddler down, especially when he crawled in Jean's lap and batted his big blue eyes.

"Pwreety pwealseeee," Levi begged. "I bet Misser Marco'll pwlay."

"Of course!" Marco agreed, not even knowing what game they would be playing.

Levi squealed, jumping from Jean's lap to the spot where he had sat a moment before. He got the throw pillows from the couch and tossed them randomly down on the floor. "Up! Up!" The toddler commanded, jumping of the couch. "We got's to get th' couch parts now! Huwwy, th' floor not lava yet, Misser Marco!"

"Are we playing The Floor Is Lava?!" Marco asked, sounding more excited than Jean thought he would be.

"Yeth!" The toddler squealed as Jean began to throw the couch cushions on the floor as well.

"I have a way to make the game even more fun if Jean's okay with it," Marco said to Levi. Levi and Marco both smiled at Jean, and how could he say no?

It took a few minutes, but Levi carried all of Jean's pillows while Jean and Marco carried Jean's twin size mattress downstairs. After cramming the coffee table in the small kitchen, the mattress was laid in the middle of the living room floor and the game began.

From throw pillow to bed pillow to couch cushion to mattress the boys jumped about, occasionally trying to catch one another and throw them into the "lava". Levi was the easiest two grab and toss, but it turns out Marco was the first to fall into the "lava". He had jumped onto a pillow but one of his feet slipped, resulting in him landing in the pretend burning liquid.

"OH NO!" Levi screamed. "MISSER MARCO GONE!"

Marco screamed in false agony, sinking lower to the ground as he did so. He fell forward on the ground on his stomach.

"NO!" Jean screamed, jumping forward. "I'LL SAVE YOU, MARCO!" Jean jumped from the safety of his pillow into the burning lava. He scooped up Marco and flipped him over. Marco's eyes were dramatically rolled into the back of his head and his tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth. Jean clutched Marco's body to his chest and dramatically tipped his head back. "NOOOO!" Jean howled.

"JEAN YOU DIED TOO NOW!" Levi screamed. Jean rolled his eyes in the back of his head and gently collapsed on top of Marco, both teens trying not to laugh. "THAT MEAN I TH' WINNER!" He bounced happily on Jean's mattress while Jean and Marco clapped. "Okay," Levi said, still jumping. "Now - you two gotta do one thing I say, no matter wha' it is!"

"Oh yeah, that's the rules, sorry," Jean whispered, having forgotten to warn his freckled boyfriend ahead of time. The toddler had stopped jumping and was now standing on the mattress with one finger on his chin, seeming to be deep in thought.

"Hmm. I think...Jean and Misser Marco have to swleep with me on th' mattwess an' we all gotta cuddle!"

How could the teens deny Levi? After several minutes of discussion on comfort and who got to "have Jean," it was decided that Jean would lay in the middle, with Marco and Levi on each side of him. Levi was so excited he didn't need to be rocked and didn't mind that his binky was only splashed with water instead of being washed properly. Jean lay on his back and snuggled Marco on his right side and Levi cuddled his left side while Jean sloppily played with his hair.

Soon, Levi and Marco were both asleep. Jean still wasn't feeling well from earlier and now he was getting a headache, but he assumed it was from all the jumping around. He felt himself drifting off. He glanced to his left and saw Levi, his hair mussed and his binky was still being suckled every now and then. One of his tiny hands clutched Jean's shirt, and when Jean looked to his right he saw Marco had one of his arms thrown over Jean completely and had his head on Jean's chest. Jean couldn't get up if he tried, so he decided to drift off into blissful sleep - after giving Marco and Levi gentle forehead kisses.

~~~

Jean opened his eyes, but everything was blurry. He was catching quick glances but none of it made sense. He couldn't hear. It was like white noise, and he was so tired. He opened his eyes and although his vision was blurry around the edges, he saw Marco - beautiful Marco. But why wasn't he smiling? More importantly, why was Jean's legs thrown over Marco's shoulders - what was going on?

" - Jean?" Marco was talking to him, but Jean couldn't hear him well; why was he whispering? "Jean? Jean, baby, stay with me okay?"

Where was Jean going? What was Marco talking about? Jean's vision was becoming clearer and his head wasn't as fuzzy. He could feel his body, he could feel his legs over Marco's shoulders. God, he was hot. Marco reached one hand out of the line of Jean's vision.

"Thanks, buddy," he heard Marco say. "You're doing such a great job."

Suddenly, Marco leaned to him and one of his arms wrapped around Jean's shoulders lifting him up. Marco's other hand was holding a cup and it was brought to Jean's lips.

"Drink, sweetie," Marco said. "You'll feel better in a minute." He was smiling, but for Levi's sake - Jean could see in his eyes that he was afraid. Jean opened his lips slightly as Marco poured the drink in his mouth. Orange juice. Jean still wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew since he was little orange juice was one of the fastest things that helped stabilize his glucose. But he didn't pass out - did he?

Jean finished the drink and Marco gently lowered him. Jean closed his eyes and he could hear Marco talking.

"Okay buddy, you're helping so much. Can you get a bottle of water for Jean? That will make his tummy feel better."

Jean heard fast pitter patter of little feet running across the living room and kitchen floor. He felt his legs being moved.

"Jean? I'm going to put the couch cushions back on and sit you up on the couch, okay?"

"Uhmh," Jean said, his mouth tingling. Marco left his line of vision but he was soon gently lifted, and carefully set on the couch. He was hot and his clothes felt sticky. Marco got his meter and pricked one of his fingers; judging by the redness of his index finger Jean assumed Marco had checked his glucose at least once already.

"Okay, that's a little better," Marco said. "But you might start feeling sick soon. Hey Levi? Do you wanna run upstairs and get the tiny trash can in the bathroom for me?"

Jean wanted to tell Marco that Levi refused to touch garbage cans even when they were empty, but to his surprise the toddler bounded up the stairs as fast as his tiny legs could take him. Marco quickly leaned closer to Jean.

"I woke up to you moaning and your clothes were soaked in sweat. I figured your sugar got low in your sleep but told Levi you weren't feeling well. I wasn't sure how much Levi knew."

"N..no he uhm, doesn't...haven't told 'im," Jean struggled. His vision and thoughts were no longer blurry, but he indeed felt sick to his stomach. Levi soon came down the stairs, clutching the garbage can around his chest with both arms.

He handed the garbage can to Jean, and the teenager hated the worry he could see in the child's eyes.

"I...I'm okay," he said, trying to force a smile.

He vomited instead.

Thankfully what little he did vomit went into the garbage can and not on Jean's clothes, which were already soiled with sweat. Marco got several wet washcloths to wipe his boyfriend's mouth, neck, and face. Marco fed him saltine crackers despite Jean telling him he could feed himself and Jean sipped his water, which helped calm his tummy. Levi had remained in the floor by the stairs, but Jean was not surprised - just a few months ago Jean had been dusting and sneezed, and Levi refused to get close to him, saying he didn't want to get sick.

Once Jean stated that he felt better, Marco rose to remove the bag that contained vomit and re-wet the washcloths. Jean leaned his head back and closed his eyes, but soon felt a tiny hand on his knee.

"Jean? Is you fweelin' better?" Jean opened his eyes to see Levi's tiny face full of concern.

"Yeah, buddy. Thanks so much for your help. You were really brave today."

"Wha's wrong?"

 _Ugh_ , Jean thought. _What am I supposed to say?_ "Uh...I just wasn't feeling well. But I'm better now."

"Was it your tummy?"

"Uh - yeah, a little."

Carefully, Levi crawled on the couch and onto to Jean's lap, much to the teenager's surprise. Levi faced Jean and began gently rubbing Jean's belly with both hands. "Mommy an' you bofth do this when my tummy hurty," the child explained. "I know it work."

Marco returned and placed the washcloths on Jean's neck and forehead while Levi continued to rub Jean's belly. Marco noticed that Levi was rubbing Jean's stomach the way he colored - carefully, with his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes set and focused. The child was determined to make Jean's belly feel better. Once Levi's little arms got tired, he leaned his face to Jean's clothed belly and kissed it.

"Fweel better, belly," he whispered before climbing off Jean's lap and between the teenagers.

"Thank you," Jean said, smiling. "You made my belly feel a lot better."

"I need to thank you too," Marco said. "You helped me so much and you were a such big boy. I couldn't have done it without you."

Instead of beaming at the praise, the child bent his head down and mashed his hands together.

"Jean?" he asked quietly. "Is wha' hap'ned my fault?"

"WHAT? No, no, no, Levi why would you even think that?" Jean said, honestly confused.

" 'Cause I was...mean. To you. I yelled." Levi sounded near tears.

"Levi, what are you talking about?"

"In my dweam," Levi said, a tear spilling over. "I was mad. An' scared. They took Eren an' I made ev'yone go after them. You say some people shoul' stay wit' you, but...I say you were...a bad word." Levi covered his face, sniffling. Marco and Jean both put their arms around him, coaxing the rest of the dream out of him. "I - I called you a...B word. I was scared, Jean, they h-had Eren an' I WANTED HIM BACK!" They child screamed and cried. The teens tried to calm him, but to no avail. He began to kick and swat at them, now in a tantrum.

"I - I JUS' WAN'ED EREN! THEY TOOK 'IM FROM ME! HE WAS MINE, MINE, MINE!" Levi was beginning to smack himself and pull his own hair, kicking Jean and Marco hard enough to give them bruises. The teens forcefully held him down, trying to calm him over his screams. "HE WAS MINE! I 'OVED HIM AND HE WAS MINE, MINE, MINE! I HAD TO PRO'TCT 'IIIIIM AND I COUL'N'T! I SOWWY JEAN, I SOWWY!"

"Levi, calm down!" Jean screamed over him, holding down his tiny arms while Marco held his legs. The three year old was no match for the two teens, but he still trashed about, desperate to hit and kick something. Soon, Levi stopped all at once, as if he had suddenly grown tired. He was huffing and his face was red and tear streaked. "Now," Jean said calmly. "I know you're scared, but you gotta act like a big boy, okay? Tell me what you remember; why are you telling me sorry? I won't be mad as long as you don't throw another tantrum, alright?"

"They took my Eren," he said, his voice so tiny and weak, as if he had given up. "They gave 'im a shot to make 'im stay asleep an' took 'im. We was in a tent...together. We was cuddlin' like you an' Misser Marco do. They had people outside all the tents an' if anyone tried to stop them they'd..." his voice trailed off, punctuated by a sniffle. "They..they beat me up an' I let'em 'cause I wan'ed my Eren to be okay. They left an' I made eve'yone go after them, even though they went two diff'rent ways. I wan'ed to follow th' one who had Eren, an' only me. No one say nothin' but you, Jean. You say someone shoul' go with me an'...an' I called you the bad word an' told you to follow orders."

The child began to cry and the teens let up on their grips, but were weary to let him go completely in fear of another tantrum. "Shhhh," Marco whispered, stroking the toddler's leg. "It's okay, Levi. I promise. Jean and I will keep you safe, okay? You're safe. Shhhh..."

Jean and Marco both shushed the child, gently rubbing his legs, feet, and arms until the child's cries turned to sniffles again and he crawled in Jean's arms, wanting to be held. Jean held him, still a little worried of being kicked or hit. Levi seemed to sense this.

"Pwease," Levi said, his voice so raspy Jean could barley hear him. "Pwease, Jean, I wanna cuddle. I be good, I pwromise. Pwease don't be mad, I'm sowwy."

Jean cuddled the child and suddenly remembered something he had seen in a doctors office about what to do when someone was having an anxiety attack. He wasn't sure if that was what was wrong with Levi but he figured it couldn't hurt. He sat up straight against the couch and snuggled the toddler to his chest. He drew up his legs together and pressed them gently to Levi's back. He relaxed his arms a little so Levi wasn't mushed, but made sure the child was still snuggled between his chest, arms, and legs. Marco sat next to Jean but turned, so his front was against Jean's side. He leaned over, wrapping his arms around Jean's shoulders and knees, his stomach pressing against Levi's little feet.

Levi had been scared and his heart felt as if it were going to burst. But now, he was snuggled against Jean and Marco, and he felt safe. He felt as though the two boys had made a shield, a shield to protect him from all the bad dreams that felt real. His heart slowed and he felt safe, safe in this shield.

"Levi," Jean whispered, beginning to play with the child's hair. "Is there anything else you want to say? We wont be mad and we'll keep you safe."

"They...kill him. They knew I was followin' them an' they took...they took his bwlood. There was a big, loud sound an' they threw 'im off the horsey. Tha's how I find him, on the ground. It was like my dwream from the ot'er day. I kiss him an' pick 'im up. I cawwy 'im to the tents and sit there. Then...ever'one come back an'..." his face scrunched up and both Jean and Marco shushed him gently. "An' a blonde boy was bleedin', but he was okay. Then...a woman in glasses was walkin', an' she had a horsey but she was walking in front of it, not ridin' it...Jean you was over the horsey, but the wrong way. You was layin' longways and...s...some o-of your head was gone."

Jean felt sick again. _So that's how I died_ , he thought, wishing anyone else would have told him. Levi's breath was getting shaky.

"I...you was dead. They went back for you but your horsey ran away. You...Jean you had a good horsey whistle." Levi said quickly, as if he suddenly remembered something. A tear spilled out of Jean's eye.

"Thank you, Co - Levi. Thank you."

Levi's little hand reached up to Jean's cheek. "I sowwy Jean." The way the child said those three words, Jean and Marco both knew Levi knew what he was experiencing was more than dreams.

"It's okay, Levi," Jean whispered, kissing the little boy's palm. "That was the risk I took, you know? Levi...it was a true honor to work by your side. I truly looked up to you, and it was an honor to follow your orders."

"Misser Marco?" Levi asked, his voice exhausted.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"I wish I could've met you. I bet you would've been a great soldier."

"Thank you, Levi. That means the world coming from you."

"I...I tired now," The child said, his eyes drooping. "But...I don't wanna have a bad dweam again."

"We'll be here," Jean assured. "Marco and I will be right here, just like this when you wake up. We promise."

"Yeah," Marco agreed. "Sleep as long as you want, buddy we'll be here, just like this."

Levi smiled, then clutched his tiny left hand to a fist - and brought it over his heart. Marco and Jean returned the gesture, although it was a little more awkward for them due to how they were sitting. Levi smiled at them.

"Jean? Misser Marco?" His eyes were closed, his voice just over a whisper.

"Yeah?" Both teens said together. It took a moment for Levi to reply.

"We...all helped humman'ty...?"

"Yeah," Jean whispered. Marco was biting his lip, but the tears came anyway. "We helped humanity. Thank you, Corporal."

The child slept peacefully, protected by two crying teenagers. They stayed in the position that comforted Levi, even though he was asleep. They stayed in that position, even when Marco's arms grew heavy and Jean's legs began to cramp. They continued to cry, both for the same reason.

"I just want to take away his pain," Jean whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Thanks for reading chapter 13! I hope you enjoyed the thirteenth installment of Goodnight, and please remember the next chapter will be all about Levi's first life, but will have NSFW and triggering content. Since the next chapter holds no purpose to the main story other than to explain Levi's dreams, feel free to skip it or stop reading if it makes you uncomfortable.  
> Have a wonderful day!


	14. Levi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter explores Levi's first life to explain toddler Levi's dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Please be aware this chapter contains NSFW and triggering content. This chapter doesn't follow the story, so feel free to skip it if it becomes uncomfortable for you to read. This chapter is almost spoiler free, save for an incident with a tea cup and revealing several people's true identities. Everything written is my interpretation of Levi's life and it in no way follows the manga, anime, or spin off. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Due to the length of this chapter, I will only be posting one chapter today.  
> As always, feel free to check out levis-taller-than-me.tumblr.com to leave comments, suggestions, or even prompts for other stories.  
> Have a wonderful day!

Levi didn't mind the darkness. He was used to the darkness, the dank stench, the hunger. He was used to it, but didn't like it. He was used to the dirty water, the cold, having his head shaved every month so he wouldn't get lice. He didn't like it. He hated it. He hated all the big bugs, his clothes that were either too tight or too big but always torn and dirty, he hated the men.

But the men didn't hate him. In fact, the men liked him _very_ much. They liked his eyes, his ears, his tummy and...other places.

Levi didn't like it. Levi hated it. But sometimes, the men would give him a little food, a little money. And Levi liked food and he liked money to buy food.

It had started when he was about seven. He had been at the market because he had no where else to be. He saw apples, and most of them weren't rotten. He stared at them a long time, until the man selling them smiled at Levi.

"Can I interest you in something?"

"N-no." Levi was always embarrassed to admit he didn't have money.

"It's okay if you don't have any money," the man said with a smile. "We can work something else out."

"Really?" Levi's body perked. He had nothing but bread to eat for the past four days.

The man got the baskets that contained the fruit and motioned for Levi to follow him. Levi followed the man for a while until they came across dumpsters and moldy boxes. The man set down the baskets and walked behind the dumpsters. Levi felt a little uneasy, but followed him.

The man was gentle and kind. Levi hadn't bathed in two weeks, but the man kissed and touched the boy's skin anyway. Levi felt that this was wrong, but at the same time...Levi hardly felt human contact, unless he was being beaten by his mother's boyfriend. Levi didn't like the man touching him, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant either.

The man took off Levi's clothes and began touching him in other places. This, Levi didn't enjoy at all. The child began crying, but the man didn't stop. The man tried putting his fingers in places that made Levi scream in pain, and thankfully the man stopped. Levi was crying and shaking, but the man helped him put on his clothes and let Levi have any apple from the basket he wanted. Levi picked up every apple and inspected them carefully, choosing his food wisely.

By the time the man and Levi got back to the market, Levi had stopped crying and held his apple with both hands, protecting it. Before Levi left, the man ran his hand over Levi's bald head. "You're a very good boy," the man said.

Levi had never been called a good boy before.

As Levi grew, more men wanted to take him behind dumpsters, in abandoned houses, and dark alleys. Over time, Levi began to separate himself from these actions. He realized he could think of other things while these men had their way with him and it made him feel better about what he was doing for food.

However, doing the things to the men was a different story. He didn't like touching the men or tasting them, but they always paid more. Levi never let the men do more than touch or taste; he screamed as loud as he could when they tried touching him in more sensitive areas, which scared the men. Perhaps it made them realize they were guilty.

When Levi was eleven, he was with a man in a commonly abandoned alley. Levi was on his knees. He hated being in that position; it was so degrading, but Levi had seen something at the market he wanted, he needed: a tea set. Levi would get in that position as many times as it took to get the tea set.

Suddenly, the man gasped, and Levi was being pulled away while the man was being turned around and slammed against the wall, his arm twisted. Levi was too afraid to talk - was he in trouble?

There were three men, all in brown jackets with horses on them. Levi recognized them as members of the Military Police. They were supposed to protect and guard, but Levi hardly seen them underground. Two of the men had the man against the wall, but the third leaned to Levi. He had kind brown eyes.

"Hi there. Want some water?" He handed Levi his water pouch and Levi drank, surprised at the clean taste. "What's your name?"

"Levi," he said, still uneasy.

"How old are you?" The man against the wall began screaming, saying Levi wanted it, that Levi was a known whore. "Ignore him. How old are you?"

"I'm eleven." And with that, the two men dragged the man away. The one officer stayed with Levi, and Levi was pissed - he didn't get paid.

"Is what that man said true?" The officer inquired. Levi shrugged his shoulders, not meeting his eye. The man was quiet for a while, then told Levi to sit and the officer stood. Levi sat, and the man took off his jacket. Levi had never seen a man with muscles that large; most men he saw were scrawny and malnourished. This man was broad shouldered and tan, his arms larger than Levi's abdomen. "So," the man said, laying his jacket on the dirty ground. "Are you as good on your stomach as you are on your knees?"

Levi screamed, but the man smashed the child's head into the jacket. "Who are you screaming for?" The man sneered as he prepared the boy with his saliva coated fingers. "The police are already here."

Levi was raped, his face buried in the man's jacket, the only thing in his line of vision was the Military Police symbol of the horse. Levi felt sick and could feel himself tearing more and more. He tried to think of other things, but the pain was too extreme. Levi cried - until the man hit a spot, a spot that made his back arch. It felt good, and Levi hated himself for it. He hated how he had to bite his lip to stop from moaning, he hated how quickly he finished.

When the man was done, he slid out of the boy. He took his jacket and brushed it off and put it on. Levi laid on the ground, too sore to move. He could feel blood and ejaculation sliding out of him and he wondered when it would stop. The man crouched in front of Levi and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small money sack. Levi had only seen merchants carry those. The dipped his hand in the bag and scooped more coins than Levi had ever been paid. He threw the coins in Levi's face and stood. He stepped back, but reached his fingers in the bag and threw three more coins at the child.

"I figure you didn't get your pay from the other guy," he said before walking away.

After a few minutes, Levi slowly rose and pulled on his underwear and trousers. He counted all the coins and realized he now had more than enough to buy the tea set.

He got home with the tea set and had even bought some black tea. Levi knew the tea set wasn't high quality, but it was now the nicest thing he owned. He poured the tea in the tea cup and picked up the cup.

The handle broke and the cup crashed to the floor, shattering on contact. Levi stared at the shards of glass until his eyes watered and he began to cry. He screamed and picked up the tea pot and threw it against the wall, shattering it as well. He had been working on his knees for days and had been raped - for nothing. Levi had always been depressed, scared, and alone, but now, he was angry. He had been angry and broke the tea pot. He had been angry and seen a result, even if it wasn't a good one.

A bad result from anger was better than no result from fear.

~~~

Years passed. Levi joined the Survey Corps and soon worked his way up to Lance Corporal. He felt that he didn't do much other than not die, but apparently that was some sort of accomplishment. Levi was good with the 3dmg - it helped relieve his stress, it distracted him from his dark thoughts about his past.

He talked about his past as little as possible and ignored when people of both genders threw themselves at him. He was not interested in relationships or one night stands. To be honest, Levi was confused. His past had confused him; he had never been with a woman, but had never been with a man other than for prostitution. He had no desire to be with anyone romantically or sexually simply for the fact that he or a partner could die at any moment or any day, and there was no point in getting attached to someone who was going to leave.

And then came Eren Fucking Jeager.

The first time Levi saw him, he was being pulled out of a titan's neck. He looked sick and small and so damn vulnerable. They chained him in a dungeon while he was in court, and everyone made bets on how long the kid would last if he didn't get sentenced to death. Most people gave the kid six months, but some gave the Eren a year or more. Levi refused to bet.

He refused because he had to beat the shit out of the kid the day before. That same morning, Levi had the pleasure of making sure the brat was up. Luckily he was already awake and Levi figured his job was done. However, when Levi turned to leave, Eren cleared his throat.

"Uh - um, Mr. Heichou - sir?" The kid's voice cracked.

"Corporal Levi," He said, actually a little amused. Most people weren't nervous addressing him due to his height, but this kid - a head taller than Levi or more - seemed tongue tied.

"Uh - yes, Corporal Levi. Um I just wanted to say I uh, I really look up to you."

Levi was glad his back was to the brat. He maintained his poker face, but he could feel his cheeks darkening. "Okay."

"Uh - yeah. You're Humanity's Strongest."

"I'm aware of that," Levi said before leaving.

That same day, he kicked and kicked the boy who looked up to him. There were few things - _very_ few things - that made Levi feel guilt, but this was one of them. Sure, the brat could be dangerous, but Levi was...curious. He felt something for the kid, he felt that the brat could help humanity in some way. Levi felt hope, and he wasn't going to let that go easily.

Not long after, his entire squad was killed. He knew this was going to happen at some point; no one lives forever, especially in the Survey Corps. He mourned silently, but if he had to be honest, he was glad Eren was okay.

Over time, he began to tolerate the brat more and more. Much to Levi's surprise, Eren cleaned almost as good as Levi - almost. One day, Levi ordered Eren to clean the mess hall as punishment for arguing with Kirstein. Of course the horsefaced bastard had started it, but Eren had no need to grab the other boy's drink and throw it in his face.

Kirstein had to clean the bathrooms which were dirtier, but the mess hall was larger, so Levi saw the punishment fair. He went to check on Eren and was surprised to see his reflection in the floor. The brat was on his hands and knees scrubbing the floor hard enough to break a sweat. He smiled despite himself, just as Eren glanced up.

"C-corporal! Am I cleaning well enough?"

 _Damn_. Based off how the kid was grinning from ear to ear, Levi assumed he had seen him smile. "Surprisingly, you damn brat," Levi said, sneering. Eren's smile dropped and went back to cleaning the floor. Levi wasn't sure why, but he picked up an extra sponge and dipped it in the soapy water bucket and to wipe down the tables.

"Oh- Corporal! You don't have to help!"

"Yes, I'm smart enough to realize that," Levi snapped.

"I - I didn't mean to doubt your intelligence, Sir. I just thought this was a punishment."

"You've worked very hard," Levi said, refusing to meet the brat's eyes.

"Thank you, Corporal. I...uh, I like...that...you're helping me," Eren finished lamely, his face heated.

"Whatever. Just don't tell Kirstein I'm helping you."

"Y-yes, Corporal! I'm very good at keeping secrets, sir." Eren hoped his Corporal got the hint.

"That's not something you tell someone who has the right to kill you," Levi said, coldly.

"I -! Yes, sir. I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry."

Levi got the hint. He just wasn't sure how he felt about it.

~~~

And then Eren got kidnapped.

Levi couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. The brat was gone and Levi felt that a part of him was missing as well.

Levi nearly died countless times to get the brat back, and when he finally rescued him, Levi decided he wasn't going to let the boy out of his grasp again.

They were on the run, of course. Through the mission, the squad had lost several bags of gear and supplies, but it was worth it for Levi to be close to Eren. Levi and his squad set up camp and discovered they only had five tents now.

"At least we didn't lose any food," Sasha said as they ate their bread rolls and potatoes for dinner.

"That's true," Hanji said tiredly. Hanji's neck ached and she was more exhausted than hungry. Furthermore, she wouldn't be able to sleep comfortably - due to tent shortages, some people would be sharing tents.

Levi kept stealing glances at the young titan shifter, letting Mikasa and Armin have his undivided attention for now. Levi hated how scrawny the boy looked, and Levi got a sick feeling in his stomach when he saw one of Eren's eyes was swollen slightly and the skin under it was a fading yellow. Levi stood, bringing his bowl with potatoes and bread with him. He walked to the trio and the three teens stopped talking. Levi saw they were all three holding hands and Levi felt a flash of jealousy.

"Jeager," Levi said, handing the boy his bowl. "Finish this."

"Sir - "

"It was an order, Jeager. And tonight you're sharing a tent with me - we have a lot to discuss."

All three teens faces were red. Armin was smart enough to realize what Levi was suggesting and seemed embarrassed. Mikasa seemed angry she couldn't spend more time with Eren but knew better than to defy the Corporal. Eren was embarrassed at the images that were coming to his mind.

After dinner they set up tents. Levi ordered Mikasa and Historia and Jean and Armin share the two tents furthest away from Levi and Eren's tent. He respected Armin's intelligence and Mikasa's strength, but the last thing he wanted was them poking their noses in his business. He let Hanji have her own tent next to his and Eren's - as long as she promised to be "deaf and mute." Hanji agreed, but still wondered how well she was going to sleep imagining what was going on three feet from her. He let Connie and Sasha share a tent as well, so long as they stayed quiet.

That night, Levi and Eren undressed, back to back. Levi wasn't sure why; he had packed casual wear but no sleep wear, and Eren had no other clothes than the one's he was wearing, so they would see each other in their underwear anyway. Or so Levi thought.

Levi had his back to Eren, but when he heard a rather quick shuffle and rustle, Levi dared to peek at the boy. He had wrapped his sleeping blanket around his body, covering almost every inch of his skin. Eren turned to see Levi shirtless, his belts half off and his pants undone and unzipped, but not off. Eren flushed, but began to speak.

"C-corporal? You're um, pretty bruised up, sir."

"Yes. The gear does that." Levi hoped he sounded nice, or at least more nice than usual.

"Well, yeah, but...um, maybe I could rub your shoulders?"

Levi remained silent as he stripped himself of the remaining belts. He took off his pants and began folding them along with his shirt and belts. He sat on his blanket and rubbed his neck. "I suppose, if you really want too. I'd be a damn idiot to pass up a free back rub."

Eren slowly stepped behind the Corporal, trying to control his breathing. He had been gone a month and had not eaten well; his body not as toned as it had been and certainly not as built as Levi's. He was embarrassed of his body and felt the Corporal would see him and realize he was just a stupid, unattractive kid.

Eren began rubbing Levi shoulders, shocked at how broad they were. He had old scars on them and Eren wanted to kiss them, he wanted to kiss Corporal Levi's neck - Levi sighed.

"This feels nice, Eren. I don't think I've felt this relaxed since you were kidnapped." Levi's voice was soft.

"T-thank you, Corporal. I didn't mean to cause you trouble, sir," Eren said, his face red. _Levi said my name_ , he thought. _Not Jeager, not brat. Eren._

Levi turned to face him. He raised one hand to Eren's blushing cheek, cupping it in his callused palm. The red in Eren's cheeks brought out the teal in his eyes, and Levi's lips parted.

The kiss was merely an innocent peck of the lips, which both were thankful for. Eren was too inexperienced to do anything else and Levi was still unsure of what the teenager in front of him truly wanted.

"Eren," Levi said, turning his body so that he was facing the boy. Eren's hair looked somewhat longer although they had only been apart for a month. Levi wanted to run his fingers through it, despite his hair being messy and so oily it looked black. "The month you've been gone, I've done a lot of thinking. I have grown attached to you, in ways I'm a little embarrassed to admit. I've been getting mixed signals from you for a while now, and I want to know what your feelings are to me."

Eren stared at the Corporal, unsure of what to say. How long had he waited for this moment? "I - y-yes! Corporal, I want you - er, uh, I want...whatever you have to offer."

Levi's face remained blank, and Eren wondered if he had said something wrong. "Eren. How old are you?"

"Oh - um, it's spring time, so I'm sixteen." _Why is the Corporal asking this? Why does it matter?_

"I see. Are you aware of my age?" A coy smile worked it's way on the Corporal's lips as he began toying with the ends of Eren's hair. Eren's breath caught in his throat.

"Well...you're an adult. You were an adult s-six years ago when the wall was breached. Um...twenty-seven?"

Levi laughed, and Eren swooned. He had made Levi laugh.

"You flatter me," Levi said. "This winter I'll be thirty-three or thirty-four."

Eren's mouth dropped open, but Levi had prepared for that. He had prepared for him to change his mind.

"Sir - uh, forgive me, but how could you not know your own age?"

"I grew up underground, Eren. Births aren't quite celebrated. The point is I'm twice your age."

"That doesn't mean anything to me. I just want to be with you."

"Eren. I need you to be aware of one last thing."

"Yes?"

Levi sighed. "I could die tomorrow, Eren."

"I know, Corporal. So could I." Eren leaned and kissed him again.

It was another quick peck, and Levi smiled again. He reached for the blanket around Eren's shoulders and pulled it down.

"Cor-!"

Eren blushed fiercely once his near naked body was visible in front of the Corporal. Worse, his arousal was obvious in his underwear, and Levi's eyes fell on it.

"From just a few kisses?" Levi inquired, smiling at Eren's blushing face. "Eren - those weren't even _real_ kisses." Levi gently gripped Eren's chin and pulled, separating the boy's lips. Levi separated his own and brought them up to his. Levi could feel Eren's lips tremble against his and tried to match the Corporal's slow pace. After a few slow, rather awkward minutes of open mouthed kisses, Levi poked his tongue against Eren's bottom lips. Eren gasped and jerked away.

"C-corporal I'm so sorry I- I'm not - well I, I'm...not as uhm, experienced as...you." Eren's face was dark red and his underwear was becoming uncomfortable.

"What makes you think I have so much experience?" Levi asked. He was a little taken aback. Sure, Eren was young, but Levi had always assumed he had at least kissed someone; he knew how hormones and being all but confined in barracks with few other people tended to work out.

"W-well, you're older than me. And you're Humanity's Strongest, sir. I figured if...if the way the girls in training - and even some of the guys - uh, _talked_ about you, I can only imagine how adults look at you. And I know you have... _needs_. I don't care though, sir, I really don't."

"Please, Eren, call me Levi," the Corporal said. "And, yes, I have as you say "experience". But it doesn't bother me that you don't. Just follow my lead, and if you get uncomfortable, tell me. Understood?"

They kissed again, and after several minutes Eren became comfortable with Levi's mouth and tongue. Levi traced his hand down Eren's stomach slowly, giving him time to figure out how far he wanted Levi to go. Eren made no disagreements, so Levi placed his hands on the bulge in Eren's underwear. He relished Eren's moan and let the boy touch him there as well.

Soon, both of their underwear was off and they stared at one another's naked bodies. Eren was embarrassed of his member when he saw Levi's, but Levi kissed the boy's stomach, lowering his mouth until Eren moaned loudly as the Corporal took him in his throat.

Once Levi resurfaced, he held the boy's hand. "Eren. How far are you wanting to go?"

Eren's face was flushed, his pupils beautifully dilated. "I want to experience everything with you, Levi." Levi kissed him deeply, then rolled the boy on top of him. "L-Levi! You want me to...?"

"Yes," Levi said quickly. "I'd appreciate it if you prepared me."

"Uh...how?" Eren was too aroused to be embarrassed.

"With your fingers. I'll guide you, okay?"

Eren prepared Levi painfully slow. Levi knew he wasn't trying tease; he was worried about hurting Levi. Levi preferred to have Eren inside of him. Levi had never been inside another, and he was afraid of Eren bleeding, of Eren being in pain, of Levi feeling like he was taking Eren's innocence the way his was stolen from him. He knew Eren would want to feel Levi inside of him at some point, but tonight Levi wanted everything to be perfect.

Levi told his lover he was ready, and Eren kissed him deeply. Eren sank his throbbing passion into him, both moaning loudly. Eren laid his forehead on Levi's, and Levi wrapped his arms around Eren's neck, kissing him over and over.

It didn't take long for Eren to pick up his pace, or for their moans to escalate.

"Le - _Levi_ ," Eren moaned into Levi's mouth. "Pl-please, _please_ , l-let me, let me - _ahhh_..."

"W-what?" Levi gasped. "Y-your di- _dick_ i- _is in_ my _a_ -ass. What mo- _ore_ do you wa- _ah!_ " Eren had hit that wonderful bundle of nerves, and continued to do so.

Eren could feel his abdomen tightening and knew his finish was close. "P-lease, Levi, l- _let me_ , let me l _-love you_ ," he whispered into Levi's ear, making sure to angle himself so Levi moaned beautifully. Eren struggled to speak coherently. "L-let me love you, Levi. L...let me _cherish_ you, let me -"

Eren stopped speaking when Levi moaned his name so beautifully and his back arched, and Eren felt his lover's hot release spill on his chest and abdomen. Levi tightened around Eren and he spilled inside his lover.

They lay there for a long time, breathing heavily and just enjoying their afterglow. Slowly, Eren pulled out of his lover and rose, both of them sticky. Levi wiped them down the best he could with a spare blanket. They were both exhausted but put on their underwear and cuddled.

"Levi?"

"Yes?" Levi wasn't sure why they were whispering, but it felt right.

"Uh...s-sometimes, in training, sometimes couples would...mark each other."

"Is that what you want me to do to you?"

"Well, I mean, if you want too. You don't have too, but I figure with my titan healing, it'll be gone by morning. But if you- _ah!_ "

Levi quickly brought his mouth to Eren's neck, just left of his Adam's apple. He sank his teeth there and flicked his tongue over the tender flesh and began to suck. Eren moaned and squirmed under Levi, which made the older man suck harder and longer. When he finally pulled away, the flesh was bleeding and an odd purple color. Levi hoped it wouldn't heal for a long while.

While Eren tried catching his breath, Levi laid on his back, exposing his neck to his lover. Eren took the hint but lowered his lips to Levi's collarbone.

"Eren - why down there?"

"I figured you wouldn't want people to see..."

"No," Levi said, lifting Eren's face to his neck, directly below his earlobe. "Eren, I want everyone to see."

Eren took his time. He remembered Reiner and Bertl before he found out their true identities and how both their necks would be bruised up and down, not in just one spot. Eren licked up the Corporal's neck, nipping and sucking as he licked along, his tongue occasionally scratching stubble. Eren loved how Levi turned to putty, how he seemed to melt under Eren's touch.

Levi's neck was bruised red, with the occasional dark red mark from Eren's teeth. If Eren had to guess, he would say he had spent fifteen to twenty minutes marking his lover. They cuddled after, both exhausted beyond their limits. They began to doze, and Levi wanted to tell Eren how much the boy truly meant to him. However, he heard the boy quietly snore and didn't want to wake him. Levi figured they would have plenty of time in the morning.

~~~

Levi awoke to a slap.

He jerked, but arms held him down and a boot came crashing against his chest, taking his breath away. He turned to his left and saw Eren's outline - how was he still asleep?

"If we knew we'd find you two cuddled together, we would have brought another syringe," he heard a female voice say. Another kick came crashing down on his chest. "What a shame. We could have got two birds with one stone had we known what a pervert the Corporal was. How old is he, anyway?" She asked the person holding Levi down.

"Fifteen? Maybe sixteen? He hasn't been out of training long," a male voice answers.

"My, my," the female says, and Levi could hear a smile in her voice. "Humanity's Strongest, succumbed by desire. Tell me, Levi," she said, grinding her boot to the center of his chest. "Do you have a thing for little boys? Or perhaps virgins? Do you like taking their precious virginity before you send them to their deaths? Tell me, I'm truly curious." She was putting almost all her weight on Levi's chest and he could barely breath. He was hardly listening to the woman, more concerned with the limp body next to him. What had they injected him with?

"Levi!" she screamed. "Did you pop his little cherry? Did you like how he bled for you, how he screamed and squirmed under -"

"Shut up you cunt!" Levi screamed, shaking with rage. White flashed through his vision and eyes as she threw her weight on Levi's chest, snapping a rib easily. Levi hated how he screamed.

"Lets drag them both out," she said, her voice still smiling. Levi was shoved forward, his chest feeling as if it were on fire. His arms still being gripped, he was shoved outside.

Everyone was out of their tents, on their knees in front of men and women holding pistols to their faces. Levi figured this was why she had screamed her questions concerning Eren; she wanted the entire squad to know what he and Eren had done. He didn't feel embarrassed - all he felt was pain.

Eren was carried out by the woman and placed long ways on a horse. His body was limp, but he was facing Levi - Eren looked like he was sleeping.

"I got him," the woman said, mounting the horse. "Make an example of the Corporal for the Commander for me - and hell, make an example from the Squad leader, too. Don't leave until every knows not to follow us." She swatted the reins and the horse began to gallop, Eren's limp body jolting along with it.

She left west, and that's all Levi could comprehend before he was released - and stomped in the back. He fell to the ground and was kicked in the head, his vision quickly blurring. He heard someone fall and dared to open his eyes while the man kicked his tailbone.

Next to him, Hanji had been kicked from the back of her knees. She fell to the ground on her knees and Levi was kicked in the ear, his eyes slamming shut. He was kicked in the neck and shoulders before he opened his eyes again. Hanji was still on her knees, but her ponytail was being gripped and the man in front of her was unzipping his pants.

"Hanj -!" Levi tried to scream, but was kicked in the temple. All was black for a moment, but he could still feel the kicks that landed on his body, until a peculiar scream stopped Levi's beating. The scream was oddly high pitched. _God, no, Hanji_ , Levi thought as he struggled to open his eyes.  _What are they doing to you?_

Hanji was still on her knees and obviously had the man's member in her mouth. However, her jaw was oddly tight for such a performance. It took Levi a moment to realize it was the man screaming.

"GET HER OFF ME, DAMMIT!" he squalled, he knees buckling and smacking Hanji's face. "GET THIS CRAZY BITCH OFF ME!"

He continued smacking Hanji, who didn't release her grip until the man who was beating Levi cocked his gun and aimed at the back of Levi's head. Hanji let the man out of her mouth, and he fell to the ground crying, and covering his bleeding member. The others in his squad came to his aid, giving him something to stop the bleeding. He was still crying and everyone in the squad looked sick. Hanji rose, spitting on the man's boots.

"I think titan vomit would taste better than you. Has no one told you you're supposed to keep your genitals clean?"

Suddenly, the man grabbed his gun, cocking it and aiming it at her face. Hanji smirked.

"Do it," she dared. "Let the entire world know you killed a woman because your dick isn't big enough to choke on."

Time seemed to stop and the air seemed heavy. His hand shook, but someone in the squad lowered his gun for him.

"We need to get you to a doctor," they said. "You're still bleeding."

After helping the man stand, they mounted their horses and left - heading north. There was a quiet moment, then Hanji ran to Levi.

"Jean and Armin!" she screamed. "Help me dress the Corporal! Sasha, Connie and Historia, give the horses water and feed them as much as you can! Mikasa - get dressed and get your gear, you'll be in the front line with me! GO!"

Everyone jumped into gear, and Levi was in too much pain to be embarrassed that he had been almost naked while he was beat, or to care three people - two of which were teenagers - were dressing him.

"Armin," Hanji barked. "What's the plan?"

"They didn't have 3dmg," he said, buttoning the Corporal's pants. "The woman that took Levi had a bag, and I think it's safe to assume she had another weapon in there. However, I noticed something. The woman, the man who hurt Levi and the man who - who was, uh, with you were the only one's who seemed confident using their guns. Also, those three had different guns than the others. The others had guns I had seen before - they are old, and ammo for them is expensive because it's rare to find for such an old gun."

"Are you saying it's safe to assume the other's guns weren't loaded?" Hanji asked, carefully rolling Levi on his back for Jean to button his shirt.

"If they were, they had no more than one or two bullets."

Levi was dressed and laid back down.

"Okay," Hanji said. "Guys, get dressed and get your gear. Armin, you're in charge of Jean, Connie, and Sasha who are going after the group. Mikasa and I will go after Eren. Historia will stay with Levi and tend his wounds. Is all this understood?"

"No!" Levi barked. "Hanji, are you forgetting who's above you?"

"Levi, for God's sake, you're hurt!"

"I don't care! Everyone is going after the group; they should be easy to capture if at least three of you have your gear and one of them is injured. I'll go after Eren."

"Levi! -" Hanji tried to protest while he shakily rose.

"HANJI DAMMIT, I'M IN CHARGE! I KNOW WHAT'S BEST!"

Levi's vision tottered, but he made his way to a horse and mounted it. No one defied him, although Mikasa looked as though she wanted to murder him.

"Corporal, you can't do this alone."

It was Jean. There was something in his eyes - concern? worry? - but Levi didn't have time to think of it.

"Do as I say, bastard," Levi spat, smacking the horses reins. "Follow my order - and that goes for all of you."

No one followed him.

Levi's vision went in and out, but he made sure to follow hoof prints left by the previous horse not too long ago. Faster and faster the horse went - until Levi saw the woman off the trail, Eren still on the horse and a needle in his arm. Levi tried to stop the horse, but it had too much speed and merely skidded to a stop before turning.

Levi heard a gunshot.

By the time he made it back, the woman was gone, but he could still hear the hoof stomps in the distance. However, Levi did not go after her.

He got off his horse, kneeling beside Eren.

"Eren?" he asked, picking up the boy and turning him over.

He had been shot in the chest.

Levi wasn't sure how long he sat there, holding Eren's limp body. He still looked like he was sleeping, and Levi expected him to wake up any minute.

 _Wake up, Eren_ , Levi thought. _Wake up. I need to tell you I love you. I need to tell you I loved sharing a bed with you and never want to sleep alone again. I want to cook for you, even though I'm not that great at it. But you'd eat it anyway, wouldn't you? You'd eat my disgusting cooking and tell me it's great. You'd take baths with me, too. You'd be the only person in the walls who would know I was ticklish, and I'd let you tickle me , I promise, but goddamn it, Eren you have to get up. You have to get up Eren. You got too. Please..._

Levi knew his bargains and promises were useless. He kissed his lover's dry lips again and again, rising with him in his arm. Every muscle in Levi's body ached and a sharp pain stabbed him every time he inhaled, but he wanted to carry Eren. He carried him the way he had seen grooms carry their wives and the way parents carried sleeping children. Eren had died, not quite being either.

Levi walked slowly, beginning to limp at some point. His horse followed beside him until they finally made it to camp. He walked...just a few more meters to their tent...a few more steps...

He laid Eren down and sank beside him. He wasn't sure how long he laid, there, his vision going in and out, but he rose at the sound of horse hoofs - too quickly, his vision blurring and a pain ripping up his chest.

His squad was back. Historia had gone with them, her being first to reach Levi's line of vision. Then Mikasa and Armin. The blonde's shirt was off and was tied around his arm, but he appeared fine. Sasha and Connie looked more exhausted than anything; Connie was shirtless as well, but his shirt was no where in sight.

Then there was Hanji, who was guiding her horse rather than riding it. On the horse's back slumped Jean.

Jean lay across the horse in the same fashion Eren had, the only difference being a shirt - Connie's - was wrapped around Jean's head.

It was soaked red.

A breeze came, lifting the hem to reveal a hole, a hole bigger than Levi's fist, right where Jean's scalp and forehead should be.

_Do as I say, bastard._

Levi felt a cold sweat break over him. His breath had been labored for quite some time now and his chest and face were sore. He saw Jean and darkness greeted his eyes.

Hanji was leaned over him - she looked more scared than when she was being raped. She was speaking, but Levi only caught bits and pieces.

"...calm down, please, Levi...not your fault...we need you..."

Levi wanted to laugh. Had they followed Hanji's plan everyone would have been alive. Levi's hands and feet were tingling; was he drooling?

His vision was getting dark around the edges, Hanji was screaming, tears coming out of her eyes like rain drops. She ran out of the tent; he could hear her voice but not what she was saying. Other than Eren's dead body, he was alone.

_I'm sorry, Eren. I'm sorry, Jean. Please forgive me. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sor-_


	15. The Past Is Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At bedtime, Levi asked to be told a different story. Surprisingly, Jean has several children's books, and one is special in particular.

Levi spent the night that night and made no mention if his dreams or memories. He was rocked to sleep, but asked to be told a different story. Jean instructed Marco to go to the top of his closet and grab the books at the top. Marco didn't take Jean for a reader, so he had no idea what to expect.

What he found were books by Shel Silverstein. Marco briefly remembered reading some of his work in elementary school but hadn't picked it up any of his books since. He picked up the book that looked the newest, titled _Everything On It_. Marco looked at his boyfriend questioningly. Jean was holding Levi with one arm and playing with his hair with the opposite hand. Levi suckled his binky and his eyes were drooping.

"Do you mind reading?" Jean asked Marco. "Anywhere is fine."

Marco opened the book and cleared his throat.

_"Although I cannot see your face_   
_As you flip through these poems awhile_   
_Somewhere from some far-off place_   
_I hear you laughing - and smile."_

Marco glanced up. Jean was staring at Levi's peaceful sleeping face with a smile - and his eyes were tearing.

"Jea-?"

"Please," Jean said, his voice cracking but his lips still smiling. "Keep going."

Marco bit his lip, but continued onto the next page and the next, reading Levi and Jean every page. On the eleventh or twelfth page, Marco smiled as he read the poem.

_"She had blue skin._   
_And so did he._   
_He kept it hid_   
_And so did she._   
_They searched for blue_   
_Their whole life through._   
_Then passed right by -_   
_And never knew."_

Jean tucked Levi in - and kissed the child's forehead, gently pushing his hair back. They watched the toddler's chest rise and fall for several silent minutes. Jean sighed, then took Marco's hand in his own.

"Bring the book, please," he said, his voice cracking still. "And keep reading until you're done. Please, Marco."

They went downstairs hand in hand and sat on the couch. Once they were comfortable, Marco turned the page.

_"There are no happy endings_   
_Endings are the saddest part_   
_So just give me a happy middle_   
_And a very happy start."_

Marco turned to see Jean's lip quivering. He hated seeing Jean like this but kept his promise and turned the page. Page after page, Jean kept his composure until Marco began a poem called "Wall Marks":

_"Those scratchy marks there on the wall_   
_They show how short I used to be_   
_They rise until they get this tall._   
_And Mama keeps reminding me_   
_The way my dad would take his pen_   
_As I stood there, stiff and straight,_   
_He'd put a ruler on my head_   
_And mark the spot and write the date._   
_She says it's my history._   
_But I don't understand at all_   
_Just why she cries each time she sees_   
_Those scratchy marks there on the wall."_

Marco heard Jean sniffle and turned to see tears spilling from his eyes.

"Please," he said. "Just keep going."

While the long book had many poems, Marco made sure to check Jean's reaction after each poem he read. After the first poem, Masks, Happy Ending? and Scratch Marks, only four other poems made Jean cry:

Hug O' War  
 _I will not play at tug o' war._  
 _I'd rather play at hug o' war._  
 _Where everyone hugs_  
 _Instead of tugs._  
 _Where everyone giggles_  
 _And rolls on the rug._  
 _Where everyone kisses,_  
 _And everyone grins._  
 _And everyone cuddles,_  
 _And everyone wins._

Yesees And Noees  
 _The Yesees said said yes to everything_  
 _That anyone suggested._  
 _The Noees said no everything_  
 _Unless it was proven and tested._  
 _So the Yesees all died of too much_  
 _And the Noess all died of fright,_  
 _But somehow I think the Thinkforyourselfees_  
 _All came out all right_

Listen To The Mustn'ts  
 _Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,_  
 _Listen to the DON'TS_  
 _Listen to the SHOULDN'TS_  
 _The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON'TS_  
 _Listen to the NEVER HAVES_  
 _Then listen close to me -_  
 _Anything can happen, child,_  
 _ANYTHING can be_

The Voice  
 _There is a voice inside of you_  
 _That whispers all day long,_  
 _"I feel that this is right for me,_  
 _I know that this is wrong."_  
 _No teacher, preacher, parent, friend,_  
 _Or wise man can decide_  
 _What's right for you - just listen to_  
 _The voice that speaks inside._

Jean was crying hard, his fist to his lips. His eyes were tightly closed, but tears spilled out anyway. Marco finished the book quickly, but Jean opened his red eyes and turned to him.

"T-there's one more. On t-the back."

Marco opened the book and flipped to the last page. There was nothing on it, but when he turned the page to reveal the back cover, a handwritten poem was on the top corner. Marco began:

_"And_   
_she loved_   
_a_   
_little boy_   
_very, very much_   
_\- even more_   
_than_   
_she loved_   
_herself."_

Marco let Jean cry. Jean sobbed, his hands covering his face. Marco set the book on the coffee table and turned to hold him, but once Marco turned Jean collapsed onto him. Marco let Jean lay his head in his lap as Marco stroked his hair. Jean's sobs shook through his body,making him shake. He cried until his voice was dry and rough and his face was red. Marco rubbed his back and hair, wishing he could take away Jean's pain.

Soon, Jean's sobs quieted and his breath became calm. Marco continued rubbing his boyfriend's back, unsure of what to do. Slowly, Jean rose and laid his head on Marco's shoulder.

"M...my mom got me that for my last birthday," Jean whispered. "The last poem she wrote was from _The Giving Tree_. That was my mom's favorite, and mine too."

Jean was quite a while and Marco stroked his hair, patiently waiting for Jean to continue.

"My dad...he used to read me all of Shel's work. Every night before I'd go to bed, he'd get one of the books and read to me. He'd buy me a new one every chance he got, but I didn't mind if I was read the same one over and over. My dad worked a lot, so bedtime was really the only time I remember seeing him when I was little. Then, one day...m-my dad had a day off and told me to go to the store with my mom. I hid under the couch because I wanted to stay with my dad and...she left without me, figuring I'd run to their room with my dad as soon as she was gone. I stayed under the couch, and I remember hearing the car start and pull out of the driveway. I...I wiggled out from under the couch, but heard my dad talking on the phone. He had to make a lot of phone calls for work so I knew he didn't like being interrupted when he was talking so...so I waited by the door. I...I heard him say h-his wife and son were gone, a-and to please send an...an ambulance within ten minutes so they...so we wouldn't..."

Marco felt sick. Jean had begun to cry again, but softly. Marco squeezed Jean's shoulder and kissed his tear stained cheek.

"I didn't understand. I...I planned on throwing open the door as soon as he got off the phone and s-saying, "I'm here daddy! I stayed!"...but...t-there was a really loud bang...a-and a thump, and I...I was scared, I thought daddy was in trouble s-so I opened the door..."

Jean's voice was cut off by a sob, and Marco wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, his own eyes tearing.

"I couldn't...see my daddy. Just the bed, but...I walked p-past the bed and he...he was on the ground. He was s-slumped over weirdly, like he h-had fallen over sitting up. H...h-his head was...there was a hole. N-not a very big one. It...it wasn't like you see in movies. There wasn't blood and b-brains everywhere. I...I think I fainted, or something. I woke up to a man carrying me, and I thought it was my dad at first, but it was a paramedic. He took me to my room and set me on my bed and asked some questions...he kept the door open, and my room was right across from my parents'...I saw them put my dad in a body bag. Seeing...seeing him zipped up made me realize he wasn't coming back."

Jean sighed, and Marco wondered if the hardest part of his story was over. He kissed Jean's temple, and Jean continued.

"My mom had to explain to me what dying was. I...I got it, but didn't _understand_. It's how life ends, it circle of life, blah blah blah. I got that. But why daddy?...I didn't know he killed himself until I got older. Mom just said he died, but when I was ten, we finally got the house sold and was able to move without worrying about the mortgage or whatever and she told me what really happened. I figured it out as I got older, but she explained that he was going through a really rough patch and was about to lose his job and...well, yeah."

Jean leaned forward with a sigh. He put his face in his hands again and Marco began to rub his shoulders.

"Well, after my dad died, my mom tried reading me bedtime stories, but it wasn't the same, you know? But she tried. I asked when Shel was coming out with a new book when I was about six or so and...she had to tell me he died. I was really sad and cried for a long time, thinking there wouldn't be another book out by him. I felt like an even bigger part of me died along with my dad. After a while I stopped asking my mom to read me bedtime stories, except _The Giving Tree_. She read it so well...maybe it's a mother thing, I don't know."

Jean chuckled, and Marco could feel him relaxing a bit. He lifted his face from his hands.

"I grew up and stopped asking for bedtime stories altogether. But a few years ago...this book came out of his unpublished work. My mom..." Jean chuckled sadly. "My mom went to one of those midnight book releases. I didn't even know people did that. But she got one of the first copies and gave it to me as a birthday gift. She showed me what she wrote on the back but...I couldn't bring myself to read it. I set it with all the other books and just let it sit there. I...no one has read it to me."

Marco stopped rubbing Jean's shoulders.

"Honey, I didn't know. Did you not want me too?"

"I...I'm glad you did. My dad...that was actually the other thing I wanted to tell you; that and my tattoo." He sighed, then leaned back. "Marco?"

"Yes?"

"Let's not talk about the past anymore."

Marco smiled and wrapped his arms around Jean.

"Fine by me."

~~~

Jean and Marco did not make love, or anything of that nature. They shared a single peck on the lips and held each other. They cuddled, and no words were needed. Jean lay on top of Marco and draped his arms over Jean's back. They simply enjoyed one another; they simply enjoyed _now_.

Jean's mother came home not long after they both fell asleep. She saw the book she got her son for the first time in three years and smiled. She wasn't sure what was so special about the Marco kid, but she was glad he made her son so happy.

She got a spare blanket and covered them both before shutting off the living room light and heading upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Thanks for the comments on chapter 14! I love getting comments from you guys; I'm always glad to hear your thoughts and opinions! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I promise the next chapter will be extra fluffy to make up for the past several chapters. Thanks for all the hits, comments, and kudos guys!  
> Have a wonderful day!


	16. Plans For The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the past gone, Marco and Jean focus on who they are now and make plans for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Sorry it this chapter took a little longer to post! There is slight NSFW content near the end, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

As the school year progressed, Jean and Marco began learning about one another, and began to fall more in love with each other for who they were now. They loved learning about each other, and there was much to learn.

For example, Jean and Marco both loved the color purple. Jean found the color and scent of lavender soothing, while Marco once read that, "purple wants to be loved, just like everyone else."

When they were both ten they dressed up as Pokemon trainers for Halloween, although Marco had - and still has - an Eevee while Jean had a Squirtle.

On their first date, Marco took Jean out for Chinese. Jean loved orange chicken and although Marco could make orange chicken very well, he figured he should take Jean out on a real date. Much to Marco's surprise, Jean used chopsticks almost naturally. He tried to show Marco how to hold them and grip food with them but after the fifteenth try, Marco held the chopsticks together and smashed them into the chicken, frustrated. It was the first time Jean had ever seen Marco frustrated and thought he was adorable. Neither liked fortune cookies but enjoyed reading the fortunes. Jean's read " _You will be graced by the presence of a loved one soon_ " while Marco's read " _Do not take for granted what can be lost tomorrow._ "

Both teens enjoyed different types of music, not just one genre. Everything from Bring Me The Horizon, 2Pac, Hollywood Undead and even Katy Perry (not that Jean would ever admit to liking Katy Perry; he just happened to have two of her albums on his Iphone.) Jean's favorite song was Hurt, by Johnny Cash.

"Isn't that a cover?" Marco inquired as he put in the earphones to listen to the song.

"Yeah," Jean said. "Nine Inch Nails did it first, but...like, they did a good job with it, but Cash just seems to have more emotion. I think, anyway." After Marco listened to both the original and cover, he agreed with Jean. Marco, however, changed the subject when Jean asked what his favorite song was.

Despite his hypoglycemia, Jean loved soda and junk food. Despite Marco's abs and prominent muscles, so did he. They nights they spent together without Levi usually consisted of popcorn, Oreos (Double Stuff or nothing), diet sodas, cupcakes, and lots of kisses and cuddles.

And sometimes more.

There were many times that goodnight kisses turned to goodnight make out sessions. The kisses were passionate and usually slow, not sloppy and wet. They took their time with one another, exploring their mouths and tongues, trying to figure out what their lover liked and disliked.

Marco seemed to like it when Jean took control, although Jean was nervous about leading. They both disliked kissing on their sides; it made touching one another awkward. Marco liked it when Jean was on top of him while they kissed and Jean enjoyed it too. While Jean didn't mind giving Marco a few nips and bites along his neck, jawline, or lips, Jean felt uncomfortable receiving them. Tongue sucking was quite a turn on for both of them, while tongue biting had ended drastically, to say the least.

They hadn't had sex yet, but had gone further than dry humping on Jean's couch.

A week or so before final exams, both Marco's parents were working late. The boys went to bed at ten thirty, sharing their ritual goodnight kiss. On this night, things went a bit further. As they kissed and touched one another, Marco's hand traveled to the waistband of Jean's boxers (neither liked sleeping in pajamas) and began to tug. Jean lifted his waist to help Marco get them off.

Once Jean lowered himself onto Marco and felt his boyfriend's erection through his boxer briefs, Jean pulled away.

"Marco," he whispered, although they were alone in the house. "What do you want to do?"

Marco seemed to squirm under him. "Uh...I'm still not ready for...s-sex, but I'd like to...maybe...give you...you know."

Jean felt himself getting harder by the second. "O-okay...like, a...hand job?" Marco bit his lip and shook his head. It took Jean a second to realize what Marco wanted and the realization was out of Jean's mouth before he could stop it, or at least reword it. "You want to suck my cock?"

Heat flashed across Marco's face. "Don't say it like that!" Marco said, embarrassed.

"Oh- I, uh, I didn't mean...well, what would you call it?" Jean asked, truly curious. Jean was no romantic, but was there really a way to sugar coat giving someone head?

"I...well," Marco shifted under him. "Well, both my parents are doctors. So I'm used to using...medical terms to describe such...acts. So, Jean, I would like to perform fellatio on you. And, maybe, you could perform fellatio on me, if you want - but you don't have too. Would that be alright with you?"

Jean was in no mood to disagree.

Although neither boy had experience in that field, they both tried pleasing their partner the best they could. It was a little awkward at first due to lack of experience and knowledge (as well as Jean having several snaggle teeth) but both teens were glad to have experienced such an intimate moment together.

They cuddled close together that night, both afraid to speak in fear of breaking the peaceful silence. Marco lay on top of Jean while Jean toyed with the tips of his lovers hair. Marco was about to doze off when Jean kissed his temple.

"Marco?" Jean whispered.

"Hm?" Marco mumbled, half asleep.

"I love you."

"I 'ove you too, Jean," Marco said, drool escaping his lips. "Jean?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"Ma'bbe...after grad'ation we could...y'know."

Jean smiled. "Perform coitus?"

Marco chuckled despite is weary state and rolled off Jean onto his side. "I w's gonna say make love."

Jean turned and cupped Marco's cheek with his hand. "That sounds lovely."

Marco hummed in agreement, kissing his boyfriend's palm and smiling mischievously. " 'Cause coitus actually refers to a man and woman having intercourse, not two men, so I'm not sure -"

"Oh my _god_ , Marco," Jean said, laughing. Marco giggled as well and the quieted down, both excited and nervous for what the future would hold.

"Goodnight, Jean."

"Goodnight, Marco."


	17. Graduation and What Lies Ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> NSFW content later in the chapter. Not my best chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway. Thanks for the comments and kudos. Have a wonderful day.

The following week, both boys prepared for the exams. The Algebra exam was easier than Jean thought and he was finished with the 100 question exam in an hour. Next to him, however, sat Marco, who nervously chewed his nails and kept running his fingers through his hair. The entire class was quiet and everyone was focused on their exams. Jean took the spare eraser top of his pencil and tossed it to Marco, hitting him in the thigh. Marco glanced at Jean questioningly, who had his head in his crossed arms. Jean lifted his head slightly and blew Marco a kiss.

The following Saturday, both boys - along with 200 other students - donned cap and gowns at seven o'clock and spent an hour getting in formation. Jean and Marco didn't sit together due to their last names, but after two and a half long hours they finally received their diplomas and were able to congratulate each other with a deep kiss.

Both Jean and Marco's family wanted to spend time with them after graduation, so they wouldn't see each other until the next day. Jean's mom made him carrot cake and steak for dinner. Marco's parents took him out to eat and gave him money, but less than an hour after they got home his parents got called in to work.

Marco was a bit lonely, but he was thankful for some time alone. Tomorrow, Jean would be coming over, and Marco planned on making their time together as romantic as possible.

Marco got his helmet and wallet and headed out the door.

~~~

Jean's mother drove him to Marco's early the next day. Marco had asked if Jean could get a ride the night before, as he would be "busy" that morning.

When Jean went to ring the doorbell, there was a small note taped to the door that read, "Come in, love!!!" Jean opened the door.

It was dark, the only light coming from the T light candles on the edges of each stair. When Jean began ascending the stairs, he discovered they also had a trail of purple rose petals leading up to Marco's room. His door was open and Jean stepped inside.

Marco was leaned over his computer, setting up the speakers. Marco looked up at Jean and smiled, heat creeping onto his freckled cheeks. He stood as Jean entered the room.

"Uh, hey," Marco said nervously.

"Hey."

Jean walked to Marco, his arms outstretched. Marco embraced his boyfriend, snuggling his face to Jean's neck. Jean kissed his cheek.

"So...what's going on?" Jean asked, referring to the computer.

"Oh," Marco said, pulling away slightly. "Well, you asked what my favorite song was a while ago, and um...I sort of thought maybe we could, you know, dance to it. If you want."

Jean smiled. "I'd love too, but uh, I can't dance."

Marco turned and pressed the spacebar on his computer. A piano started playing, but Jean did not recognize the song. Marco placed his hands on Jean's shoulders and Jean wrapped his arms around Marco's waist.

"I can't dance either," Marco said, smiling. "Maybe we can figure this out together, too."

The song began and they clumsily danced, stumbling and stepping on each others feet. They giggled as they danced, Jean trying to focus on the lyrics.

"Marco," Jean whispered, narrowly missing Marco's foot with his own. "What's this song called?"

"A Thousand Years, by - " Marco's voice was cut off by Jean's lips.

They stopped dancing and kissed, Jean's hands traveling to Marco's bum. Jean lifted Marco, and Jean could feel him smile against his lips. Marco was a little heavier than Jean predicted, but Marco continued kissing him and wrapped his legs around Jean's waist. Jean led him to Marco's bed.

Jean laid Marco down on his bed and pulled his lips away. Marco kept his legs around Jean's waist and Jean ran his hand through his lover's hair.

"Jean?" Marco asked, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Yeah?"

"Why are your hands shaking?"

Jean looked at the hand that was in Marco's dark hair and realized his hands were indeed shaking, along with his knees. "Uh...I guess I'm nervous. Are you?"

"Yeah," Marco said with a smile. "But I trust you. Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

Marco wrapped his hands around Jean's neck and brought his lips to his boyfriend's. As they kissed, Jean's hands traveled down Marco's chest and stomach, his fingers tugging at the end of Marco's shirt. Their lips separated long enough to remove each others shirts, then met again at a more quicker pace.

Soon, both their clothes lay scattered on the floor and bed. Jean lay on top of Marco under the blankets, his hand between Marco's mattress and boxspring. After a few moments of searching, Jean found a condom and a small bottle.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Jean asked, speaking slowly so his voice wouldn't crack.

Marco smiled despite his hammering heart. "I love you, Jean."

"I love you too, Marco."

~~~

Jean lay back in the bathtub, feeling more relaxed than he ever had in his life. He couldn't remember the last time he had a bubble bath but promised himself to start taking one at least once a week from now on.

The bathtub was circular and large, complete with a waterfall faucet and jets along the side. The entire bathroom was white and damn near perfect, and although Marco said it was fine, Jean still felt a little awkward in Marco's parents bathroom.

There was a gentle knock on the door and Marco peeped in.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah," Jean said, smiling. "A bit lonely though. Thought you were joining me?"

Marco smiled and stepped inside, tugging the ties of his bathrobe as he closed the door.

"Most of the candles went out on their own, but I made sure the were all out before I threw them away," he said, shrugging off his bathrobe. "I'm pretty sure I got most of the rose petals, but we'll have to double check before my parents get home."

Carefully, Marco stepped into the bathtub. He lowered himself between Jean's knees and gently rested his face against his boyfriend's chest. He, too, seemed to fully relax in the warm water.

"Are you sore?" Jean asked.

"A little," Marco said. "But that was inevitable - no matter how much lube you used."

Jean felt heat rise in his face. "S-sorry; I'll buy more. I really didn't mean to use the whole bottle."

"It's okay," Marco said with a laugh. "I...I'm really glad you took your time preparing me. Thank you."

Jean brought his wet, bubbly arms around Marco's shoulders and kissed his forehead. "I just wanted you to be in as little pain as possible. Thanks for the candles, flowers and music. That was really sweet."

Marco lifted his face to kiss his boyfriend's lips. "There's only one more thing that'll make this day perfect."

Jean smiled, wondering if he could ever love someone as much as he loved the person laying on top of him.

"Pizza?"

"Pizza."


	18. Shock

The next morning, Marco woke up with Jean's back to him. He was confused, as Jean usually cuddled him all night. However, Marco figured now was his time to be the bigger spoon and threw his arm around his boyfriend's middle, trying to bring him close.

Jean's skin was clammy and cold. Marco rose slowly, his mind still groggy from sleep.

"Jean...?"

Marco gripped Jean's shoulder and shook. Jean remained silent. Marco sat up fully and rolled Jean on his back.

Jean's eyes were closed. His mouth was slack, and dried vomit crusted on his chin and on his pillow and the sheets. His face was an odd color, not quite blue but not his normal skin complexion either.

Marco felt calm. He called 911 and determined that Jean still had a pulse. Marco performed CPR for five minutes straight until an ambulance arrived. They let Marco ride in the ambulance with them after he lied, saying Jean was his brother. Marco knew they wouldn't let him see Jean in the hospital unless he was a family member. Marco stood as he watched the paramedics check Jean's vital signs and give him an IV. Marco couldn't hear much over the siren, but he wondered how fast they were going. He wanted to tell the paramedics Jean got car sick easily, and to please stop saying, " _He's not responding_." Jean was going to be okay, Marco knew this.

At the hospital two of the paramedics wheeled Jean in, and the third wrapped a blanket around Marco's shoulders.

"Sorry," he said. "They won't let you see him until they know what's going on, so uh, how about we find you some clothes and slippers?"

Marco glanced downward and realized he was barefoot and in his boxer briefs.

"Uh...yeah," Marco said, tugging the blanket around him and following the paramedic into the hospital, but going a different route than Jean and the others had.

Marco smiled.

_Jean's going to laugh when I tell him I was so scared I almost walked into the hospital damn near naked. He's going to laugh so hard. I'll tell him the minute he wakes up.  
_

~~~

Jean's mother sat in the chair beside her son's bed, crying silently. Marco called her and explained what happened, but for some reason he couldn't remember what he said. He remembered sitting in the waiting room, several people mistaking him for a nurse because the only clothing the paramedic found was a spare pair of scrubs and hospital footies.

 _I bet if Jean was in my place, he'd pretend to be a nurse,_ Marco had thought. _He'd be wandering the halls as if he's busy, or maybe tell outrageous made up stories of things he's seen at ERs. He wouldn't be too worried, because he'd know I'd wake up. He wouldn't lose faith in me so easily._

Marco waited over an hour and a half, left alone with his thoughts. Slowly, with each passing minute, the shock Marco was in wore off. He called Jean's mother and by the time she made it to the hospital, they were able to see Jean.

He had an IV and was hooked up to a ventilator through a tube in his throat. Jean's mother slowly walked up to him and sat in the chair next to the bed and began to cry. Marco walked to the other side of the bed to inspect his boyfriend.

Someone had put him in a hospital gown, but had not bothered wiping the vomit from his chin or combing his hair. Marco took it upon himself to get a tissue and wet it with his tongue, dabbing his lovers chin. Once that task was done, Marco finger combed Jean's hair, remembering how much Jean hated his thick, unruly hair.

Suddenly, Marco realized he never told Jean how much he loved his hair.

 _But that's okay,_ Marco thought quickly. _I_ _can tell him when he wakes up._

As Marco straightened up Jean's hair, a doctor appeared, looking somewhat forlorn. This took Marco by surprise; his parents often talked about how important it was to hide your feelings from the patients family. Marco suddenly wondered if his parents knew where he was. Just as fast, Marco remembered this wasn't the hospital his parents worked at. He couldn't control his thoughts; they jumped around from one thing to another, trying not to focus on Jean and the what if's.

Jean's coma - Marco cringed at the word - was caused by a sudden drop in his glucose. There didn't seem to be any brain damage, but it was hard to tell how well Jean's body would react to coming out of the coma, if he did at all.

"W-what do you mean?" Marco asked, hating how dry his mouth was. "He's going to wake up and be just fine, right?"

The doctor did not meet Marco's eye. "Well...people respond to being in a coma differently, depending on their medical history, how their body adapts, and so on. However, most people who regain consciousness still need some form of therapy to get back to their normal, physical and mental selves. Some people's brain chemicals don't quite respond well, which can lead to problems in the future. However - " the doctor said quickly, seeing Jean's mother's face wince. " - that doesn't appear to be Jean's case. He is in a diabetic coma, which we can treat with medication..."

"And?" Marco said, his heart fluttering and his stomach twisting.

"He isn't responding to the medication. So far we have given him as much as we could, but any more could do more harm than good. As of now, we just have to wait and see how he responds."

Marco hated how much pity was in the doctor's eyes. As if he knew Jean wasn't going to wake up.

Through out the night, Marco gently held the hand that had the IV while Jean's mother held the other. She had stopped crying and Marco wondered why he hadn't started. Time ticked on, Jean's mother making light conversation about what Jean was like as a child, before the hypoglycemia and before his father's suicide.

He loved chocolate chip cookies and his favorite color was green. He had a two foot Godzilla doll that he packed around everywhere and he always wanted to ride a horse. He hated car rides, even if it was just to the grocery store. He had been a good baby and hardly ever cried, even if he was hungry or needed changed.

As the night wore on, Jean's mother was leaned back in her chair and Marco was slumped across the bar of the hospital bed, both half asleep.

"I really love him," Marco whispered.

"I know," she whispered back. "He loves you too."

They soon fell asleep, their hearts beating softly.

Jean's heart stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> I hope you enjoyed this installment of Goodnight! I'm planning about four more chapters, so I hope you enjoy those too! Thanks for all the comments and kudos; I really wouldn't have got this far without your support.  
> Have a wonderful day.


	19. Saying Goodbye

_Jean felt euphoric. There was no pain. There was no sadness. There was blissfully nothing._

_Wait. He felt a...presence. He felt something - someone - close by. And suddenly, there were arms around him, bringing him to a gentle warmth._

_"...Daddy?"_

_"My Jean..."_

_There was a light kiss on his cheek, and suddenly, he was being lifted._

_"No - Daddy!"_

_"You don't belong here, Jean." His father said. "Go, Jean. I love you."_

_"I love you too, daddy."_

_Suddenly, there was a bright light. Jean shielded his eyes, but he heard screaming. He opened his eyes to see he was outside a hospital door. He felt something like fear, but there was more than screaming. There was...a cry._

_Jean stepped forward, and he was in the room. A tiny, red baby was quickly being swaddled. A blonde woman lay exhausted on the bed and a man jumped up and down next to her._

_"Jean!" The man said. "Can I see my son please?!"_

_What? Could they see him? What was happening, why was he here? The doctor quickly laid the newborn on the mothers bust. Despite her exhaustion, she smiled._

_"Jean," she cooed._

_My daughter, Jean suddenly realized. This...this is my daughter. The one I died protecting..._

_Again, Jean felt himself being lifted, and he hoped more beautiful surprises awaited him._

~~~

The night before Jean's funeral, Marco did not sleep well. His parents tried talking to him, but he asked to be left alone. He knew they were worried about him and his mental health, but there were things he needed to do.

Less than two hours after Jean passed away, his mother had been bombarded with questions concerning the funeral: did she have a burial sight? (Because all mothers expect their children to die at eighteen, right?) Did she have a specific color scheme she wanted? A tombstone inscription, or tombstone in general? What about a coffin? And, most importantly, how did she expect to pay for the funeral along with the hospital bills?

Marco hated seeing her cry, he hated how she choked out every word she spoke. "W-well, I-I co-ould use...h-his college-" she choked, unable to speak. Marco wrapped his arms around her, the first time he had ever done such a loving act towards her. Surprisingly, her head fell onto Marco's chest and he held her for a long time.

"I...I d-on't want to do this," Jean's mother whispered.

"Okay," Marco responded.

~~~

Marco let Jean's mother pick out where she wanted the funeral to be held. She couldn't bring herself to pick out the coffin or a tombstone, so Marco offered to do that himself.

As it turns out, there were many of both to chose from. Marco hadn't been involved much in his brother's funeral, but he never imagined there would be so many options of caskets and tombstones.

Marco's mother suggested holding the funeral at a funeral home, where they offered caskets, urns, and so on, but Marco asked her what she truly wanted, if money was not an option.

"I...I would want h-his funeral the same place his f-father's was."

And that was that.

Jean was to be buried at the Lutheran church one town over at 3 PM the next Monday. Marco bought the casket and tombstone, together and in one day. Apparently, most people didn't do that. After signing the paperwork for both possessions and writing what he wanted to be engraved on the tombstone, Marco pulled out his wallet and the salesman stopped him.

"You do know how much these things are, right? We have options where you can make a down payment and..."

His voice trailed off when Marco opened his wallet and began counting bills on the counter.

~~~

The night before Jean's funeral, Marco called every florist in town to make sure no problems had arisen. He called the church to make sure (for the third time) what exactly would be taking place and at what time. Lastly, he called Levi's mother.

"Hello?" She answered on the second ring.

"Hey," Marco said, clearing his throat. "I was just wondering if you and Levi were still coming."

"Yes. He's...he seems to understand better than I thought he would. He's sad, but not asking any questions."

"Are you alright with what I talked about yesterday?"

Levi's mother sighed. "I suppose. It's up to him, really. I...I'm not sure how to explain it to him."

"I understand," Marco said. "I'll see you two tomorrow. Have...have a good night."

"You too."

Marco stared at his phone long after he had hung up. He didn't tell Jean good night the night he died. For the first time since Jean died, Marco felt his heart totter. He felt as if the world was shifting.

He sat at his desk and began to write.

~~~

Marco was still awake as the sun rose, when he had finally folded the paper and put it in an envelope, licking it sealed. Not bothering trying to sleep, he took a shower and dressed, preparing himself for the day ahead.

He drove his mother's SUV to the jewelry store. He wandered about the store, contemplating his sudden idea. He wasn't sure how Jean's mother would feel, but he wanted some sort of closure.

After several minutes, Marco picked out two silver wedding bands and two black boxes for each ring. He then drove to the church, despite being seven hours early.

He pulled in the parking lot and placed both boxes in his pocket. From the looks of the parking lot, he was the first one to arrive.

He walked in the church and sat in the second to last pew. Nothing had been set up yet, but he wasn't surprised. The church was small and white, and Marco thought it to be the average cliched church. He had never been inside a church before and wondered what made this church - a Lutheran church - so different than a Catholic church or a Muslim mosque.

He leaned back in the pew and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but he opened his eyes when he heard the echo of footsteps approaching.

Marco assumed the man approaching him was the preacher due to his solid white vestment, but Marco was surprised at the man's youthful appearance: his blonde hair was long enough to be tucked behind his ears and he wore plastic rimmed glasses, which framed his round face.

"Can I help you?" He said with a smile. He was about six feet from Marco, far enough to not make Marco uncomfortable but close enough to offer solace.

"I'm here for Jean," Marco said. He wasn't sure why he worded it like that, but it felt right.

The preacher smiled, walking past the teen and sitting in the pew behind him.

"His funeral isn't for another few hours. Are you a friend?"

Marco liked how he referred to Jean in present tense. "I'm his boyfriend."

There was a moment of silence, and Marco was too emotionally exhausted to care if he had made a faux pas or not. He knew how most religions felt towards homosexuals, but what could the preacher do? Kick him out of the funeral?

Marco couldn't see the preacher's face, but he did hear him sigh.

"I'm very sorry for your loss. I couldn't imagine what I'd do if I lost my wife." They were both silent for a while, until the preacher spoke again. "I don't know your religious preferences, but I hope you feel comfortable here."

"So Lutheran's aren't judgemental towards homosexuals?" Marco wasn't sure why he cared, but it was somewhat...comforting.

"Well, like all religions, there are those who see homosexuality as an immortal sin. Then, there are those people who recognize the Bible says homosexuality is wrong, but that the Bible also says God loves all his children."

"But...you still think being gay is wrong?"

The preacher sighed again. "I believe it's not my place to judge God's work. I am here to love and accept, not be judgemental." Marco heard the man stand and step forward, placing his hand on Marco's shoulder. "However...I feel that God has bigger concerns than two people loving each other."

Marco tried his hardest to return the smile. "Uh...sir?"

"Oscar."

"Uh - Oscar. W-will I be able to see Jean? Before the viewing? I have a few things to give him."

~~~

It was another two hours before Jean's body came from the morgue and another hour before Marco could see him. Oscar had informed him that Jean would look "different", but Marco was prepared for that.

Jean was already in the casket. A smile twitched on the corners of Marco's lips as he approached Jean; he could smell the lavender.

Indeed, Jean's body lay on top a pile of lavender flowers. Marco had requested Jean's casket be coated with the purple flowers, and for Jean to be holding a single stem of lavender in his hands.

"We do that last," a quiet voice said. "The flower? We'll do that before the viewing. We haven't even put any make up on yet."

Marco turned to see a small girl, covered in lavender. Her hands were clasped together and she gave the teen in front of her a small smile. Marco turned back to Jean.

He was grey. His face was sunk in and seemed...dead. There was no other word to describe how Jean looked. Marco felt the world shift.

"Can - can I have a minute?" Marco whispered. The woman left quietly.

Marco reached his hand in his pocket, retrieving one of the boxes. He opened it and was shocked when a tear fell out of his eye. He put the box back after pulling out the ring. With shaking hands, Marco reached in the casket and slowly lifted Jean's left hand, trying to ignore how heavy Jean's hand was.

Marco kissed the back of Jean's palm. Slowly, he placed the ring on Jean's fourth finger and slid it on. With some difficulty, Marco kept holding Jean's hand while he fumbled for his ring and placed it on the proper finger.

He held Jean's hand for a long time, sadly admiring their wedding bands. Tears stung Marco's eyes, but a small smile played on his lips. He reached into his back pocket and got the letter he had spent all night writing and placed it in the casket. Marco gently squeezed Jean's hand and kissed Jean's ring.

"Goodnight, Jean."

~~~

More people showed up to the funeral than Marco had thought. There were quite a few students from school Marco recognized, but most of the people were family members Marco never had the pleasure of meeting.

Levi and his mother arrived right on time for the wake. His mother was carrying him, and Marco hated how tired the child looked. His little arms were around his mother's neck, but he had several sheets of paper clutched in his tiny hands.

She sat next to Marco in the front pew and let Levi crawl in Marco's lap. Without words, Levi handed Marco three sheets of paper.

The first one was of all three boys standing on a large rock surrounded by lava. The second picture showed Marco holding Levi, and Jean above them with angel wings. The third was of all of them together again, but in green cloaks and swords. They were all smiling.

"I wanna give'em to Jean," he whispered.

"Okay," Marco said as he stood. Levi took Marco's hand as Marco led him to Jean's casket. Marco picked up the toddler and leaned him over so Levi could place the drawings in the casket. Levi placed them on Jean's stomach, then wrapped his arms around Marco's neck.

It pained Marco how quietly the child cried.

~~~

Jean's funeral wasn't terribly long. His mother and grandmother said several things, but Marco had no intention of speaking in front of all of Jean's friends and family.

Soon enough, the casket was closed and a long, white pall sheathed it. The preacher, Oscar, explained that this was to symbolize that all were equal in death, no matter what the casket looked like or what kind of life the person inside it lived.

Marco rose, along with several of Jean's family members.

"Okay, buddy," Marco whispered to Levi. "Are you ready?" Levi shook his head and took Marco's hand.

Marco gripped one side of the casket by the handles, as did the other pallbearers. With his other hand, Marco held Levi's.

Marco and the other men carried Jean's body outside to the cemetery. There, the burial would begin.

This process was a little longer. The preacher said more, but to be honest Marco didn't pay much attention. Soon, the casket was lowered and dirt was thrown on top of it. Marco didn't notice, but this was the time that most people left. Marco stayed, as did Levi. They stood as dirt piled on, and Levi tugged Marco's dress pants.

"Misser Marco?"

"Yeah?"

"You think there's sp'getti in Heaven?"

"Uh...yeah. Why?"

Levi looked back at the grave. "Jean liked sp'getti with meatballs."

"Yeah, he did." There was a long silence.

"Misser Marco?"

"Yeah?"

"You think he c'n see us?"

"I dunno, buddy. Maybe. But you know what?"

"Hm?"

"Jean knows we still love him."

Levi hugged Marco's leg and smiled. Soon, dirt covered Jean's grave in a neat pile. Marco smiled as well.

"Misser Marco! Why don't Jean have a rock like the others?"

"A tombstone? He does, but it has writing on it, so it'll come later."

"What's it say?"

Marco smiled.

"Well...see that one, over there?" Marco said, pointing several graves over.

"Th' long one?"

"Yes. Those are long so two people can share a tombstone and be close to each other, even when they're not alive any more. That's the one I picked out for Jean."

"So you an' Jean can share one?" Levi inquired.

"Yep. Absolutely right, buddy."

Marco sighed. Everyone had left at this point, save Jean and Levi's mother's, who had gone back inside the church. Marco lifted the toddler, wondering how many times he was going to say goodbye. Marco turned to leave.

"Hey!" Levi exclaimed. "Wha's you's and Jean's stone say?"

Marco smiled. "Well, if I tell you, you gotta keep it a secret, okay?"

"Okay!"

Marco smiled, whispering in the toddler's ear as they made their way to the church. A gust of wind blew, and Marco swore he could still smell lavender...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and hope you feel a little better after reading the last one! Thanks for all the comments, hits and kudos! Please be aware that there will be two more chapters as well as an epilogue!  
> Have a wonderful day!


	20. To You, Ten Years Later (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years after Jean's sudden death, this chapter follows Levi's life as a young teenager.

Levi sat in his bedroom, rolling a lint brush over his dress shirt and pants. She was late, of course. He sighed and looked himself over in the mirror.

He had recently gotten his hair cut in the undercut fashion. His mother had said it "looked nice," but he heard her talking on the phone to one of her friends the same night and wondered out loud which would grow out faster: his hair or the phase he was going through.

He had dreams of his past often and he had enjoyed his hairstyle then and enjoyed it now, but if he had to be completely honest, he cut his hair for her. He had liked her since she started going to Levi's daycare when he was three and continued to like her as they grew, going to the same Elementary school and even sharing Kindergarten, first grade, third grade, and fourth grade together. Middle school was more difficult to share classes, but in seventh grade they had math and art together and that's when their relationship began.

They had never disliked each other, but Levi had always thought she was cute. He was intrigued with her, but never knew why until he was twelve.

He had had dreams of his past life for as long as he could remember. However, the older Levi got, the more detailed the dreams became. When Levi turned twelve, he began having dreams of her. They weren't clear at first, but he later had dreams of her helping him fight and over time realized what an important role she played in his first life. He had recognized it then and hoped she knew how her existence helped him in their first life.

He had asked her to be his girlfriend a month ago, at the beginning of their freshman year. They had math together the first semester and would have earth science and world history together their second semester, so Levi felt nervous asking her out - what if they broke up and he had to see her everyday - or worse, what if she didn't want to date him at all? Nevertheless, he was grouped with her in math one day and pulled out a clear bag of gummy bears from his backpack. The brand was cheap; the packaging was merely a plastic bag stapled with a white strip of cardboard that had the brand name.

"Uh. Yeah. I bought these for you," he had said, nervously slamming the bag on the desk beside him, not looking up from his paper.

She squealed rather loudly, which made Levi's ears turn pink. Maybe he should have waited until they were outside during lunch like he had planned.

"Oh, I love gummies! I thought you hated candy?" She was all but shouting, which caused half the class to look in their direction. Levi's ears were getting redder, but he loved the way she bounced in her seat.

"Uh...yeah. Candy is bad for your teeth."

She stopped bouncing, but rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Oh Levi, what am I going to - " her voice stopped when she playfully tossed the bag around, revealing the back of the cardboard top. In black Sharpie, hastily written in the top corner was "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Levi's pencil shook as he circled the appropriate answer for the first question. Why was his heart beating so fast? Why did it matter if she wanted to date him or not? Who cared if -

Suddenly, a tiny red gummy bear was placed on his paper. He turned to see her face a pretty shade of pink, but not meeting his eyes.

"Um...red is my favorite. I thought you would, you know, like it. You know, to show I...care about you."

Levi was unsure if that was a yes or no, but he picked the tiny bear and popped it in his mouth (despite it being chewy and he could feel it sticking to his teeth and who knows how many germs were on that piece of paper.) The rest of the class period, Levi and her worked on their math paper in silence. When the bell rang, Levi jumped up, wondering how he was going to ask her again.

"Oh - Levi?" She smiled and handed Levi the cardboard. "You forgot your phone number."

Since then, they had been boyfriend and girlfriend. Levi wasn't a touchy feely person, so there wasn't much PDA, but outside during lunch she would steal a hug or two and even a peck on his cheek. He wasn't brave enough to kiss her or even ask her out on a real date, but he had invited her to his house for his fourteenth birthday the previous week, which was when she invited him to her Aunt's wedding.

He combed his hair again and put on his shoes, wondering where she was. Or, more accurately, where her mom was. Levi hated depending on his mother for car rides, but he wasn't sure why. He loved his mother, but for some reason asking for a ride was just -

There was a knock on the living room door. He raced out of his room to the door, but his mother had beaten him there. She threw open the door and squealed.

"Oh _Hanji!_ " She said, Levi mentally face palming himself. "You look so cute! And - oh, _Levi!_ "

Of course, his mother wanted a picture. Levi rarely dressed up and it was the first time he had ever seen Hanji in a dress, so his mother found this photo worthy. While his mother prepared her phone, Levi glanced at his girlfriend.

The dress was a dark blue and reached the tops of her knees. The dress had spaghetti straps, and Levi took notice of her tiny shoulders. Her long, dark hair - which normally hung down, surpassing her shoulderblades - was in a soft bun. Levi noticed how the dress hugged her figure and how soft her skin looked, but most importantly he noticed how happy his girlfriend looked. He smiled, glad the picture was being taken.

~~~

Levi walked in the church, trying his best to swallow the lump in his throat. He hadn't bothered asking Hanji what church the wedding was being held; it seemed like such an insignificant detail. However, as they pulled into the parking lot, Levi felt his stomach turn.

He hadn't gone to the church since he was six, but he recognized it immediately. To the left of the church was a cemetery, where his former babysitter and the sixth highest graduate of the 104 training squad was put to rest.

He told Hanji none of this. He didn't want to take away from the wedding, and because he knew it would be pointless. In the month the couple had been together, Levi had dropped countless hints about remembering their first life, including calling her "my Hanji Zoe" (the look she gave him after he pinned another girl's name to hers made that a one time thing), holding his cups by the rim (she thought it was cute but made no other remarks to it), and had given her a gift the previous week on his birthday.

When it was almost time for her to leave, he pulled out a small gift bag and handed it to her. She reached her hand in the bag and pulled out a can of beans. Time seemed to slow as Levi watched her facial expression go from confused to shock. Her eyes watered and she put a hand to her mouth, then to her knee.

"You...remember?" Her voice was just over a whisper. He took her hand in his own.

"Yes," Levi said. "I do."

Tears poured from Hanji's eyes. "I can't believe you remember _kindergarten_!"

Levi's heart stopped. "Uh..."

"The first day of kindergarten the teacher made us say our name and something we loved, and everyone said they loved kittens or something, but I was so excited I didn't say my name, I just screamed "I like beans!" Remember, Levi? Everyone called me Beans the rest of the year but you and the teacher but - oh Levi I can't believe you remembered!"

She leaped on Levi and threw her arms around his neck, almost hitting him in the face with the beans. He hugged her back, not disappointed in her loss of memory. He was glad she didn't remember their first life and watching all their comrades die, he was happy she didn't remember his death, and he was perfectly content with her the way she was now.

Levi made certain not to glance towards the cemetery on their way inside the church. The wedding was rather boring, but Levi tried looking intrigued throughout. Finally, the newlyweds shared their first kiss and walked down the aisle together and Levi thought the wedding was over. Much to his surprise, the next event would be cocktail hour.

He and Hanji sat together at their own table while everyone ate. Hanji seemed to be enjoying the dinner until Levi saw Hanji jerk, her hand clutching her forehead.

"What's wrong?"

"I...my head just sort of got a pain. I'm okay," she said, trying her best to smile.

"That's not good, Hanji. You should ask your mom if we can le - "

"No! Levi, we can't miss the bouquet toss!"

Levi groaned to himself. "You're not going to fight anyone, are you?"

Hanji giggled. "I'll only push the children."

The continued eating in silence, until Hanji began to massage her temple.

"Uh...Levi?"

"Hm?"

"You...you've had your hair cut like that before, right?"

Levi's heart thundered. "No. Why?"

Hanji blushed, giggling nervously. "I just keep getting this picture in my head of you with that haircut, but...I'm cutting it and shaving your neck for you. Isn't that weird?"

"I don't think so."

"I do. I think it's - "

Suddenly, the bride and groom entered the dining area. Applause broke out, and soon enough most of the girls stood eagerly behind the bride - and in front of Levi's table. The bride had her back facing the crowd of girls and gripped her bouquet. She closed her eyes and threw the bundle of flowers as hard as she could.

The bride was quite a thrower. The bouquet soared over the hands of the women - and almost smacked Levi in the face. He flinched and caught the bouquet out of reflex.

That, apparently, was a wedding no-no.

For nearly five minutes the girls argued that Levi caught the bouquet, which meant he was "next." Some of the girls argued that "he didn't count; a girl had to catch it." Hanji argued since he was her boyfriend, it was the same as her catching it. The argument went on with Levi awkwardly holding the bundle of flowers in the middle of the arguing women until it was time for the newlywed's first dance.

The majority of the women gave Levi a hateful look before leaving, but the argument was over. Levi handed Hanji the bundle of pink flowers.

"I really don't want these," he said, just as the music started. Hanji was more than happy to take them, and Levi was certain she eyed the flowers more than the first dance between the bride and groom.

The dance was over rather shortly, and Levi hoped they could go home soon. Music still played and others began to dance, but Levi and Hanji remained seated.

"Levi?"

"Yeah?"

"You know what they meant by saying you were "next", right?"

Levi sighed. "Next to be married?" Hanji grinned, giggling. "But I gave them to you," Levi pointed out. "So you're next."

Confusion spread across Hanji's face.

"Levi...?"

"What's wrong?"

"I...I've been having really weird dreams lately." Levi remained silent, his heart hammering. "I don't remember much when I get up, but...I remember never wanting to marry anyone in this dream. 'Cause, like, I'm a scientist or something, but also like a...like a soldier? Sort of? I don't know, it's weird."

"Why bring it up?" Levi's mouth felt dry. Hanji merely shrugged her shoulders. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course!" Hanji said, gripping the bouquet.

"I have dreams like that too."

"You...do?" Hanji didn't seem frightened or in disbelief. She seemed curious. "Could you tell me more - tonight, when you call?"

"I'd love to," Levi said, smiling. Levi wasn't sure what the future would hold for him - he had never met someone he knew in his first life since Jean died and Marco. He had never explained it to anyone before, and wondered how he should go about doing so.

 _I should probably text Marco_ , Levi thought. _I wonder how he's doing, anyway._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Only two more left! As always, feel free to check out Levis-taller-than-me on tumblr. Since this story's almost done, I could use some ideas for more! Thanks for all the kudos, comments, and hits; I couldn't do it without your support.  
> Have an awesome day.


	21. To You, Ten Years Later (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years after Jean's death, this chapter follows Marco's life and what he's up too now.

Marco walked into the diner, thankful for the heat that blasted him and the six year old when they walked in. They stamped their snow covered boots on the mat in front of the door, then continued into the restaurant.

"Mister Marco?" The child asked. Marco had been living in Germany only five months, but he was still impressed with all the children's English.

"Ja?" As a learning tool, Marco was told to speak to the children in German when they spoke to him in English. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't question Frau Heiden.

"Can we go to the ocean again?" The child pulled himself into the booth, wiggling across the seat until he was against the window. Marco sat next to him.

"Ja!" Marco replied. "Wenn es wärmer wird." _When it gets warmer._

"Then I can swim?"

"Ja. Nachdem ich euch lehre, der Kurs." Marco said with a smile. _Yes. After I teach you, of course._

The waitress came and took their orders, complementing the child on his pretty eyes. The boy blushed and buried his face in Marco's arm as Marco placed his order. While they waited on their food the two made light conversation about the ocean and school. The bell above the diner door chimed, signifying someone had walked in. Before Marco could glance up, his cell phone vibrated.

Hey. What are you doing?

Marco smiled. It was rare to hear from Levi, but it was always made Marco smile.

Just finished showing Armin the ocean. What about you? :)

Their food arrived and Armin attacked his stack of pancakes and bacon. Marco took a bite of his burger, then almost choked on it.

In the booth across from them sat Erwin and Anna.

Marco never had the pleasure of meeting the Commander of the Survey Corps, but he had heard so much of what the Commander looked like almost as much as he heard of the Commander's strength.

He was not as muscular as he once had been, of course. However, it was obvious his body was still fit despite the layer of clothes he wore. His hair was blonde and short and his eyebrows were shaped beautifully. Marco wondered if his eyebrows were naturally shaped like that or if he got them professionally shaped and plucked.

Anna was as beautiful as ever. Her hair was red and freckles framed her pretty face. Her hair was up so Marco couldn't tell how long it was, but Anna's hair was not his main focus. Marco was focused on how Erwin helped her take off her coat, how she smiled at him and scooted next to him in the same seat. Erwin draped his arm casually over her shoulders.

Marco felt a tug on his jacket sleeve. He turned to see Armin glaring at him, as mean as the child could muster. "Mister Marco! It is not nice to stare!" He whispered loudly. Marco smiled at the child.

"Ja. Est tut mir leid." _Yes. I'm sorry._

Marco and the child ate their food while talking about the ocean. Levi text every few minutes, telling Marco that his girlfriend, Hanji, was beginning to have memories of her first life. Marco text back some advice, but when he sent the text he realized it was 7 PM.

"Wir müssen bald." _We need to go soon._

"I'm done, Mister Marco. Thank you for letting me have breakfast for dinner." Amin hugged his caregiver's arm. "And taking me to see the ocean."

Marco smiled. "Ich freue mich." _My pleasure._

As they waited for the waitress to bring the bill, Marco gave Armin one of his clean napkins and a pen he kept in his pocket. Guiding him, Marco helped the child write a thank you note to the waitress.

Frau Heiden was Armin's (as well as five other children's) primary caregiver and insisted on education and mannerism in every way possible and for it to be taught in every way possible. When the children were out, they were taught to be polite and to show the utmost respect to children and elders alike. Armin writing a thank you letter was not uncommon to Marco.

Marco paid the bill and tip and Armin carefully laid the thank you napkin underneath the bill. Holding hands, they exited the diner and began to make their way home. Marco didn't glance again in Anna's direction. He was glad she was happy with someone else. After all, Marco was still happy being with Jean.

~~~

It was another mile before they made it to the place both of them called home.

After Jean's death, Marco joined the Peace Corps. He spent two years helping teach the youth in Swaziland. He enjoyed this much more than he thought he would, so when he returned to the states he got his Bachelor's in Child Care and Development. He worked in daycare centers for a while, but quickly moved up to social work. Through networking with friends and acquaintances from the Peace Corps, he found job opportunities in other countries, including Germany.

Why he chose Germany, he did not know. There were better jobs he could get in other countries - even one of him opening his own orphanage - but Marco chose to help a widow care for six German children in a foster home. The pay was not great and Marco didn't even have a bedroom, but he felt at home.

Once they got home, Marco helped Armin take off his boots, "handshoes", coat, and knit cap as the other five children asked excitedly about the ocean. Frau Hieden had already served dinner, so now it was Marco's job to bathe the four boys while she bathed the two girls.

Armin was six, as well as Hans. Hans was much louder than Armin and often forgot his manners, but he seemed to be very intelligent. Sebastian was the youngest and was the cutest child Marco had ever seen. At the age of three, his black hair waved around his ears and his blue eyes were clear, and although it was clear the child had a slight lisp, for some reason that only made Sebastion more adorable. Silvester was seven and enjoyed bragging about being the oldest of both the boys and the girls.

The boys were quite easy to bathe, save for the space the bathtub offered. Once they were dried off and dressed, they joined the girls in the living room for their nightly Bible study.

All six children sat on the couch while Marco sat at the kitchen table, going over some paperwork, promising the children he was listening. He had let Frau Hieden know of his religious preferences - or lack thereof - before he had begun working there. She respected his views and never made him feel uncomfortable, even during the children's Bible studies. However, the girls often wanted Marco to join them because they never spent much time with him.

Maddilyn was five and had curly blonde hair that fell to her tailbone. She was quiet and rather shy, but had no problem telling someone something was boring and often got in trouble in school - and church. Isabella was four and was Silvester's sister. She was unlike her brother in many ways, but she often bragged of being able to read better than almost anyone. (That almost being Armin.)

Once Bible study was over, it was time for bed. Marco was exhausted, but figured it was due to all the walking he and Armin had done. Once bedtime hugs were given out, Marco got his pillow and blankets out of the hallway closet and spread them on the living room floor.

Marco didn't mind sleeping on the floor, although he would sometimes sleep on the couch. There were times when the children would come to the living room and cuddle with him after a nightmare. Marco would always try to talk to the child and calm them down, but often times the child was tired and just wanted to sleep. Marco didn't have the heart to deny them.

On this particular night, a thunderstorm took place. It wasn't very loud or violent, but six times that night Marco awoke to a tiny tap on his shoulder. Six times, Marco had to lift his blanket and shift around. Seven times, he said goodnight.

As each child snuggled with him to get away from the noises of the storm, Marco made sure to tell them goodnight. However, before he fell asleep, he kissed his wedding band, telling Jean goodnight as well.

After every child was asleep around him, he smiled. His chest hurt, but not painfully so. He had felt a little lightheaded, but figured it had to do with being woken up so many times. Marco sighed, peacefully content in his life, and feel asleep.

The next morning, Frau Heiden would wake the children up for school. She was surprised Marco was not awake yet, but decided to let him sleep in. All the children kissed Marco on the cheek before they left, and Armin wrapped the blanket around the man's shoulders. When asked why, he told Frau Heiden Marco was cold.

All the children had school but Sebastian, who went to a daycare. The children impatiently waited by the door for Frau Heiden to walk them to school, but she bent down with her back to the children and placed two fingers on the side of the man's neck.

There was no pulse.

She went outside with the children and walked them down the street. There, she met a neighbor who had a child who went to the same primary school as her foster children. She asked the neighbor to walk her children to school and to walk Sebastian to the daycare center down the street from the school.

When she returned home, she called an ambulance. She tried CPR, but to avail.

Marco was dead. It was later discovered that Marco had Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy, which makes the heart muscles thick and made it difficult for blood to leave the heart, causing, over time, the heart to collapse.

Marco's body was sent to the states. There, he was buried next to his friend and lover. He had a rather large funeral, and Levi was one of his pallbearers. Levi felt alone, but was glad Hanji was there with him.

Like Jean's funeral, Levi did not leave until the last pile of dirt was thrown on Marco's grave. Levi wondered what it was like to be buried next to the person you love, the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. Hanji slipped her hand in his.

"Levi?" She whispered.

"Yeah?"

"What does the quote mean? On the headstone?"

"It's sort of from Marco's favorite book, Treasure Island. Marco explained to me once that he really wanted Jean to read it, but Jean didn't like to read, so Marco showed him Treasure Planet, a Disney movie based off the book. I guess they both really liked the quote. I don't think it's in the book, though."

There was a silence as they stared at the headstone and the words written on it. They held hands as Hanji rested her head on Levi's shoulder and he rested his head on hers.

After a minute or so, he kissed her forehead and sighed.

"I guess...I guess we should go," he said, trying to not let his voice quiver.

They turned and began walking towards the church.

"Levi?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you smell...lavender?"

Levi smiled and let go of Hanji's hand and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Yeah," he said. "I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Well, this is it! One more to go! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, as well as the story in general. I apologize for any German mistakes; I haven't taken German in two years and had to rely on Google for some bits. As always, feel free to send me some ideas for stories or one shots; I have a few ideas but am willing to write more. Thanks so much for the hits, comments, and kudos. You guys have no idea how much I love receiving comments and kudos!  
> Have a wonderful day.


	22. Happy Ending?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco discovers whether or not there are happy endings, or if endings truly are the saddest part.

Marco was never aware he had a heart problem. Since Jean's death, he had tried his best to take care of himself and live a life Jean would be proud of. Although Marco struggled with depression for many years, suicide was never an option or even a thought. He would be reunited with Jean, wether it was in death or another lifetime.

When Marco died, he was rather confused to say the least.

He had felt himself being lifted and knew all too well what that meant. He worried for the children who snuggled around him and hoped none of them realized he was dead. He wondered how Frau Heiden was going to explain what had happened. Although he was only twenty-eight, he had a will planned for his death. He didn't own much (or anything) but had been asked to be buried next to Jean and for all of his money to be donated to whatever charity he was involved in at the time of his death.

Remembering this, Marco smiled to himself. Although he had died, at least the children were guaranteed a good Christmas this year.

Much to Marco's surprise, he was not granted another life suddenly. Instead, he could see Levi and a girl he assumed was Hanji. They were dancing together, to a song Marco didn't recognize. It appeared to be a wedding, and Marco wondered why Levi looked so nervous. The young couple danced somewhat apart from the crowd and the girl was talking softly to Levi, so quite Marco couldn't hear her.

Suddenly, in the middle of her sentence, Levi bent down and pecked the girl on the lips. It was a quick, gentle kiss, by no means lewd or unchaste, but Marco could see both their faces blushed red. They continued dancing, the girl finally coming out of her shock and smiling at Levi, who avoided her eye.

"What?" He asked. The girl smiled, then met Levi's lips in another kiss.

And then, Marco was standing in front of his parents. They were smiling, and holding hands over the candle-lit table.

 _Oh_ , Marco thought. _It's...a date._

Marco could not remember the last time his parents went on a date, much less smiling together and seemed happy, not stressed about work and tired. He wondered how the news of his death would affect them, but for now they were happy. His last thought was that he hoped they stayed that way.

Lastly, he was in front of a little yellow house. He couldn't remember a house similar to this in any life. The front door opened, and a young woman came out holding a car seat. A young boy ran out next to her, racing to her car to open the back door.

"I got it mommy!" He called, opening the door with both of his hands.

"Thank you!" The woman said, strapping the baby in. "You're such a good big brother."

The boy beamed at the praise. Realization struck Marco; he knew that expression. Upon closer inspection, he could see that the boy was exactly who he thought he was. Marco smiled and felt his body being lifted again.

 _Yeah_ , Marco thought. _He's a great big brother._

~~~

Marco opened his eyes. He was on his back and he was in his underwear. He was groggy and felt weak. He moved his limbs slowly.

He was alive. He wasn't an infant or a child; he seemed to be the same age he had been when he died. This was new.

He was in a Queen size bed and although he was alone in the bed, he was laying on the left side. He turned his head slowly and saw the covers next to him were crumpled and the pillow next to him was indented.

Someone had been in bed with him.

Marco's body jerked. He tried to sit up but failed. His head was thumping and his body felt numb. Marco breathed heavily and looked around the room for some hint as to what was going on.

The bedroom was average sized. The walls were an off white and a large window was close to Marco. White drapes hung in front of the window and Marco couldn't tell if it was morning or night. Looking to his right, Marco could see the bedroom door as well as a wardrobe. A white ceiling fan was on low and the light was off.

Marco closed his eyes and tried to hear what was going on around him. Faintly, he could hear something, but it sounded far away. His head hurt and he was tired.

Suddenly, Marco could hear someone approaching. As the footsteps got louder, Marco tried raising himself to a sitting position. However, he only managed to sit up on his elbows before the bedroom door was opened.

Before Marco stood Jean, clad in only pajama bottoms and an open bathrobe, holding some sort of tray. Marco's vision tottered; surely this was a dream or a hallucination.

"I see you're up!" Jean said cheerfully as he set the tray down on his side of the bed. He quickly walked over to Marco and lifted him into a sitting position. Marco tried to speak, but Jean had moved the tray into Marco's lap. On the tray was a plate of eggs and bacon, as well as a cup of orange juice. " _Shh_ ," Jean said as Marco opened his mouth. "Don't talk, okay? I got to make sure you're okay. I'll explain everything later, alright?"

Jean cut up Marco's breakfast and fed it to him. Surprisingly, Marco felt as if he hadn't eaten or drank anything in a week. When Jean brought the cup to Marco's lips, Marco drank the entire glass. Jean smiled.

"Remember when my sugar would drop, and you'd take care of me? Now I get to take care of you, even if it's just for today."

Tears stung Marco's eyes. This was real. Jean - _his_ Jean - was alive and well and Marco didn't care what life or year this was so long as Jean wouldn't leave him again. Jean leaned forward, thumbing away Marco's tears.

"Hey - don't cry, okay? The first day is always the hardest. But you'll get lots of strength soon and we can talk."

"J-jean," Marco said, his throat feeling oddly dry.

Jean seemed surprised Marco could talk. "Honey, don't talk okay? Just rest for now. I'm going to get you something to drink and eat and be right back, alright? Love you."

Jean leaned forward to peck Marco on the nose and picked up the tray. Marco wanted him to stay, but couldn't find the strength to tell him so. Once Jean was gone, Marco was left alone with his thoughts.

Jean looked eighteen. His face held a youthful appearance and his hazel eyes seemed to glow. Marco was suddenly embarrassed of his appearance. Although he wasn't even thirty, his hair had begun to thin and crows feet decorated the corners of his eyes. While he had worked hard in the Peace Corps, after college he had no need to work out and his arms and stomach were no longer toned. Marco wondered if Jean thought he looked old.

Jean returned with a smile, along with an entire carton of orange juice and more food on the tray than Marco could see. Jean sat in front of Marco and fed him cookies and chips, doughnuts and crackers, and even had a bowl of pasta. Instead of getting another cup, Jean let Marco drink from the carton. No matter how much Marco ate, he wasn't satisfied.

"That's normal," Jean said, as if reading Marco's mind. "You've - ah, can you stop drinking for a second? - yeah, you've been asleep for about a week or so."

Had Marco been drinking, he surely would have choked on it.

"Uh, yeah," Jean said, laughing nervously. "I should probably explain."

~~~

Marco wasn't sure how long he and Jean laid in bed, cuddling and him listening to Jean talk. Marco's strength slowly came back and he was able to move on his own. He snuggled as closely to Jean as he could and hung on to every word Jean had to say.

From what Jean had gathered the ten years he had been here, this was Heaven. There was no "God", or any judgement from anyone for that matter. From what it seemed, people reached Heaven when they were content with death and the life they had lived.

From what Jean could tell, everyone seemed to have their own place to go. There didn't seem to be one Heaven, but multiple ones strung together. Jean said you could visit others, but he preferred to stay at home. Jean also said people stayed the age they passed, explaining his youthful appearance.

Upon entering Heaven, you "land" with your soulmate, or someone in your family. Jean stated that there were many times that the soulmates had never met one another in any previous life, or had only been friends. In some cases, soulmates referred to parents and children.

Jean promised to get to that later.

Upon "landing" - dubbed such because you literally appear out of no where - the average person sleeps from three days to a week. No one knows why, but the body requires no food or water until the person is awake. Once awake, the person tends to be weak for several hours and needs to be fed and given plenty of water. Once the person regains their strength, it is up to them to decide what to do with all the time they have.

"W...what time is it?" Marco asked as Jean lifted him, bringing the nearly empty carton to Marco's lips. Marco finished off the orange juice before Jean spoke.

"Uh, well...there's not time here."

"What?"

"Time isn't recorded here. I mean, there's day and night, but time and days aren't really important. To be honest I had no clue how long I'd been here until my mom showed up."

"You-your mom is here? Can I see her?"

In the years following Jean's death, Jean's mother and Marco remained surprisingly close. She supported everything Marco did and often invited Marco over for dinner. It was awkward for a while, but over time Marco began to stop seeing Jean's mother as "My Dead Boyfriend's Mom" and started seeing her as a separate person.

Last year, Marco received a call saying she had been killed in a car accident. Marco was depressed for a time, but helped pay the funeral costs and buried her beside her son. Marco got a pang in his chest when he realized his funeral had passed and that Jean was buried between his mother and lover.

"We can see her. But she sort of has someone over. Someone...uh....well, funny story actually, but in our last life we sort of...uh..." An awkward silence followed.

"Jean, you're worrying me."

"No! In our last life, we were supposed to...adopt...a b-baby."

"A baby." Marco stared at Jean, dumbstruck.

"Yes - well, he's not a baby anymore. He's three."

"He's three."

"Yes, honey. I - I wasn't sure how you'd take all this, so I asked mom to watch him for a few weeks, give you time to - "

"I wanna see him right now," Marco said, sitting up and throwing his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Ah - okay, if you can walk."

As it turns out, Marco could not walk. This problem was fixed by Jean carrying Marco piggy back style out of the house - after Marco insisted on getting dressed.

"What - what do you _mean_ all you own is pajama's?" Marco asked in disbelief.

"Marco, this is m - _our_ Heaven. The only people here are me, you, and our son. Hell, mom has her own Heaven; she's just staying close for my sake while she's babysitting. All I own is pajama's."

Once Marco was clothed in black sleeping shorts and a grey tanktop, Jean carried him out the door, Jean still only clad in a bathrobe and sleeping bottoms; he hadn't even bothered putting on shoes.

Outside, Marco realized Jean lived in a quiet suburb. The houses were close together and were brick with white picket fences separated each yard. Jean carried Marco pass each house, whistling along the way.

"Uh - Jean? Do people...live here?"

"Nope," Jean answered cheerfully. "This is our Heaven. I kinda pictured us living in a place like this, but hated the idea of nosy neighbors. So the idea of a nice, empty neighborhood seemed perfect. But we can change that if you want."

"How far away does your mom stay?"

"Oh - about five more houses down. She wanted to move in next door, but I advised her not too. I'd hate for her to hear some of the sounds we're going to make the next few nights."

For the first time in ten years, pink crept into Marco's cheeks.

Jean carried Marco up the steps and into the house where his mother stayed in. She had been sitting on the couch watching television ( _You can get T.V here?_ Marco thought) but the moment Jean walked through the door, she jumped up and had her arms around them both, smothering both their faces with kisses.

Once Marco and Jean's mother were acquainted again, Marco asked to see his son. Jean took him to a small bedroom, where the boy was napping.

The child was dark complected, with shaggy black hair. His tiny body was curled up and his thumb was in his mouth, a small puddle of drool collecting on his fist. His face seemed so peaceful.

"He's from Bulgaria," Jean explained in a whisper. "He said his name was Boyko, but he didn't like it. He asked to be named something else, but I told him he had to wait."

"What for?" Marco whispered. He couldn't take his eyes off the toddler. Jean shrugged Marco off his back and set him on the bed.

"He had to wait for his other daddy," Jean said, kissing Marco on the lips.

Marco felt the blankets stir and turned to see dark brown eyes sleepily staring at him. Marco felt oddly nervous.

"Uh - hello," He said, giving the child a smile.

The child sat up and crawled in Marco's lap. He got comfortable and pointed at Marco's face.

" _Bashta_ ," the child said. Marco wasn't sure what he said, but the child said it with an air of confidence, leaving no room for question.

"Yes," Jean said with a smile. "That's your other daddy."

Tears fell freely from Marco's eyes as the toddler wrapped his arms around Marco's abdomen and squeezed. Slowly, Marco put his arms around the child and sqeezed lightly.

"I love you, _Bashta_ ," the child whispered.

"I love you, too, Boyko," Marco said, meaning it with every fiber of his being. The child gasped as Jean wrapped his arms around them both.

"I get a new name!" The boy began bouncing in Marco's lap.

"Well," Jean said, sitting on the bed next to Marco. "I like the name Kayden. What about you?"

"Uh...yeah. That's nice," Marco said, glancing down at the toddler in his lap. The boy's eyebrows were furrowed and his hands were balled at his face.

"Kayden?" He said quietly. "Okay. I like it, too."

"Kayden it is, then," Jean said, leaning down to give the child multiple kisses on his cheeks, nose, and forehead, making Kayden burst into a fit of giggles.

" _Bashta_ , _Bashta_!"

Jean soon turned his kisses to Marco, and Kayden helped with the attack as well. Marco didn't try to fight them off, enjoying every kiss from his husband and son. After a while, Marco began peppering kisses on them as well.

Soon, all three lay on the bed, tired, giggling messes.

" _Bashta_?" Kayden asked Jean, his voice quiet.

"Hm?"

"Can I sleep at home tonight?" The want in the child's voice all but broke Marco's heart. Jean sighed.

"Can you be a big boy and spend _one_ more night with _Baba_? _Bashta_ and I haven't seen each other in a long time and have a lot to talk about."

"Like the letter?" Kayden seemed excited.

"Yes," Jean said. "The last letter _Bashta_ wrote me. I have to answer all his questions."

Suddenly, Marco realized Jean was referring to the letter he had put in Jean's casket. How had Jean read it?

Far too soon, Jean and Marco told their son and Jean's mother goodbye, promising to pick up Kayden in the morning. Kayden hugged both his daddy's, smiling up at them as he said, "G'night, _Bashta_!"

Marco smiled at his son and ran a hand through his hair. "Goodnight, Kayden."

Jean carried his husband home, a pep in his step.

Once they were in their bedroom, clothes were hastily removed, kisses were greedily stolen, and touches were relished.

That night, neither Jean nor Marco slept. They made love several times, the time inbetween used to hold one another and be greatful of the other's presence. They held hands as they made love, somehow hearing the gentle _clink_ of their wedding bands being hit together over their moans and the sweet nothings they whispered to one another.

"M-marco," Jean had whispered after their third (or fourth) time, his sweaty forehead pressed against Marco's.

"Hm?" Marco said, barely above a whisper. His body felt as if it were floating.

"I told you goodnight. E-every night, I told you goodnight."

Marco felt something hit his nose. He figured it was sweat, but when he opened his eyes he realized Jean was crying.

"Me too," Marco whispered, tears threatening to fall. They kissed, and soon their members were hardened again.

As they made love and held one another, they smiled and cried as one, and no words were needed to comfort each other. They knew what the other was thinking.

Forever had finally arrived.

~~~

_And they lived happily ever after._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Well, this is it! Goodnight is completed!! I'm terrible at keeping suspense, so I decided to post the last chapter today. I hope you guys have enjoyed this story, and I want to thank you all for reading it. Thank you for all the hits, comments, and kudos! Although this story's over, please be aware I have two more stories coming up, and will have the occasional one shot posted from time to time.  
> I couldn't have done this without you guys.  
> Have a fantastic day.


End file.
